


Aren't You Special?

by Cascalence



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Mind Reading, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Vampires, bodyguards
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-28
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:07:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 35,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27250936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cascalence/pseuds/Cascalence
Summary: I'm sorry, I suck at summaries, and I can't think up one for this.  If you read it, you read it.  If you don't, you don't.  ...But you could enjoy it~~
Relationships: Gabriel/Sam Winchester
Comments: 41
Kudos: 51





	1. Chapter 1

Gabriel Shurley, at age 33, was presently the forerunner in inheriting his father's multinational marketing company. It had been his brother Michael...but then Michael had snapped under the stress of life in general and tried to kill his younger twin, Lucien. When he'd been locked up in a mental institution until fit for the general populace of a maximum security prison, he'd still been ranting about archangels and the apocalypse. Lucien hadn't been his only victim...just the only one he'd failed to actually kill.

Lucien was in a coma, and had been for nigh on six years now. He still had brain waves, however low they were, and it was the only reason that Charles (please, call me Chuck) Shurley hadn't pulled the plug. He had hope. They all did.

But with Michael in prison, likely for the rest of his life, and Lucien pretty much out of the picture, it left Gabriel in the hot seat.

He took on the position of VP of marketing with as much grace as he could.

It was only after an attempted kidnapping about a year and a half ago, however, that Gabriel realized he was vulnerable. He had, previously, gone about freely, with hardly a care in the world. After that, though, after the nearly botched rescue attempt from the local swat team, Gabriel had convinced his father that bodyguards were needed for himself, his younger brother Castiel, their precocious sister Anael, and for Chuck himself.

Chuck had easily given in to his argument. He loved his children, even Michael after his divulgence from reality, and after the scare with Gabriel, decided he couldn't bear to potentially lose another of his precious darlings.

And so it was that Gabriel interviewed several bodyguards over the course of the next few weeks before finally settling on them. At Chuck's side was a former marine. Gabriel had, after carefully researching and vetting the man, promptly decided he wasn't going to bother with his name, and instead annoy the hell out of him by calling him Rainbow. He had his reasons.

Cassie got a fierce woman with startlingly red hair and a no-nonsense attitude that Gabriel had decided to piss off everytime he saw her by calling her Raggedy Anne. He hadn't been able to dig up much on her, but the way she threw daggers from seemingly nowhere to embed into the wall beside him everytime he called her by that name highly suggested a background as an assassin. So long as she was loyal and kept his favorite brother safe, Gabriel decided he didn't care.

Anna had gotten a gruff grizzled man that was way past his prime, but definitely didn't show it. Gabriel had found a lot on him, including an association with Rainbow. Former marine with a lot of seal stuff, and plenty of redacted ops. This man, after meeting him, Gabriel decided he respected. This man he didn't give a nickname, but instead addressed him by his last name. Singer.

Gabriel himself had picked Rainbow's son, who had obviously been trained by the man, in addition to a brief stint in the army. There was a lot of tension between father and son, and Gabriel wondered if it had to do with the son going the army route, rather than the marines. He wasn't sure, it almost seemed deeper than that, but it was none his business. Dean Winchester wound up being the best of the options that Gabriel had considered for himself, wanting his family in the hands of the best. And the man had a good sense of humor, barely doing more than smirk at being called Sunshine all the time.

Since his hiring, Dean had become a friend, a good one. After the first time Gabriel had decided on pranking him, he was shown that even if Gabriel was his employer, he wasn't safe from pranks in retaliation. And oh boy, was that ever fun! Definitely helped lower the stress level of his every day life.

Time continued, and after a few months of Dean standing off to the side, or blending in to the background to keep an eye on his boss, Gabriel decided that that was enough, and invited him to join when he went to the bar, or to sit and eat with him at whatever greasy diner Gabriel dressed down to go to.

When Dean had taken a bullet to the arm for him just a month ago, Gabriel realized that Dean wasn't just a friend. He was family...another brother. Gabriel's own panic after the situation had been deescalated informed him of as much.

Now, Dean almost fully healed, they were walking down the street, laughing and talking after a night at the bar, getting some fresh air to clear their heads.

"Dude, seriously. You could've had that chick. She was all over you!"

Gabriel sighed. Dean had taken an interest in his boss' love life (or lack thereof) as of late. "Maybe. But she seemed clingy, probably would've made it something it's not, and I just don't do relationships anymore, Sunshine. You know that," he said, brushing it off.

Dean frowned and sighed, shaking his head. "Gabe, man...look, I get that you weren't just burned, you were cremated, but you can't..." he began, but trailed off with a constipated look on his face. Dean wasn't one for talking about feelings all that much, and this was uncomfortable territory for him.

"Maybe one day, Dean," Gabriel spoke, allowing him the opportunity to escape the conversation while also relaying his seriousness by using Dean's name. "But it'll be a long time, and definitely not with a skank at a bar," he finished.

Dean started to nod his agreement, but then froze, halting in his steps.

Before Gabriel could look to see why, he was being shoved into the open alley beside them, Dean being pushed in after him.

Gabriel's heart lurched as he managed to move enough to see five shadows, one of them belonging to his bodyguard. There was more than one gleam of metal reflected from the streetlight across the road. Guns and knives.

"Wallets, now!" one of the shadows barked out.

Oh, fuck, they were going to die by mugger!

Dean's shadow moved suddenly, pushing Gabriel to the wall before he turned and landed a punch on one of the other shadowed men. The other three surged, and in a matter of minutes, Dean was on his knees, and Gabriel was frozen against the brick of the building, trying to get the nerve to save his bodyguard-brother.

But then there was a noise from the opening to the alley, and the four shadows pummeling the hell out of Dean froze. Gabriel followed their gazes to see a tall figure, taller than Dean, standing there. His features were even more shadowed by the light behind him than that of the muggers in front.

"Waaallltt...which street are we on?" one of the shadows spoke. There was fear in his voice.

"...Eighth," Walt, apparently, answered. There was outright terror in his.

Confusion came from a third voice, addressing the newcomer. "This isn't your territory. What do you think you're doing?"

"It's my territory now," the new figure spoke, tone colder than ice.

Dean, on his knees and holding his side at the feet of the muggers, snapped his head up. Gabriel could see enough of him in the blocked light to find his eyes were wide, but not to see why.

"That's against the contract!" the first voice barked, but his tone was still laced heavily with fear.

All of the four muggers' shadows tensed as the one at the entry to the alley moved his left hand and arm. They relaxed, minutely, when a phone's screen lit up beside his waist. Seconds later, a ringing tone was sounding through the alley before the call was answered.

"Moose! To what do I owe the displeasure?" a British accented voice came spilling through the air.

"The contract has been violated. I claim Eighth Street as mine," the man, Moose, responded cooly.

There was a muffled curse from the phone, then, "And just how was the contract violated?"

Silence stretched in response, punctuated only by the slight, pained wheeze from Dean where he hadn't moved since looking up.

"...Moose?" the man on the phone prompted impatiently.

"Family," Moose snarled in response. Dean flinched a bit at that, but started to move to stand.

"Family? Of all...of course, of course. And dare I ask what exactly my lackeys did?"

"Crowley, I don't think you've been paying your minions well enough if they're resorting to mugging," Moose spoke, tone still cool, but edging on playful. That bewildered the hell out of Gabriel.

"ARE YOU--" Crowley's voice roared. The four muggers flinched back visibly, starting to try and step back from Moose and his phone. More calmly came, "Identify yourselves."

When silence stretched again, the four men apparently unwilling to speak up, there was a put-upon sigh echoing from the tinny audio of the phone. "Do me a favor, Sam, and rid me of the lot of them," Crowley spoke. The screen flashed as the call was promptly ended, and there was a strangled noise from one of the men before Moose--Sam--put the phone back into his pocket. One of the muggers turned, trying to run.

"Sammy--" Dean breathed out, but Sam was moving. Like lightning, the man was moving. There was a sickening wet crunch, then a wet ripping noise and something splattered on Gabriel's face before he could even turn to see what was going on. A cry of agony filled the air and cut off abruptly by the time Gabriel could see the three bodies on the ground, and Sam was moving again, toward the one running.

Gabriel managed to turn his head in time to Sam grab the runner by the back of the neck and...what he did was humanly impossible. He twisted, and the runner's torso turned. His legs didn't follow, and Gabriel was pretty sure his spine had snapped as he crumpled silently to the ground.

"Sammy," Dean was saying again, heartache and pain in his voice.

Sam stilled from where he stood with a body at his feet. After a moment, his head turned, showing he was listening.

"Y-You...come home, Sam. Please. I-I'll...I don't know what Dad told you, but I want you home, dammit!"

Sam turned fully. "You want me home? Dad didn't tell me anything, Dean. He recorded your words, you know. So it wasn't him. It was you," Sam spoke, tone back to the ice it had been earlier.

Dean flinched slightly, and Gabriel could just barely make out a look of confusion on his features. "What are you talking about?" he spoke, voice edging on breathless fear.

"'He's a bloodsucker, and after all he's done, he deserves to die.' ...Ring a bell?"

Dean froze for a second, then shook his head, voice almost pitching high as he responded. "That wasn't about you, Sam! I know what you did, I do! ...That shit was about Azazel, dammit! Not you!" Dean practically yelled. "...You're my little brother, whatever else you are now. Even if they hadn't been bad people, I could never feel like that about you, Sammy," he spoke, voice a much more sedate volume.

Gabriel was reeling from the most recent words. Bloodsucker? Whatever else you are? ...Then there was the fact that he seemed to be completely forgotten about and he really wanted to sneak away right now, but he didn't dare move after seeing what Sam had done. Didn't dare risk that he would be viewed as another enemy and slain like a dog.

Silence stretched for minutes, and it almost seemed to be like hours due to the tension.

"Please, Sammy," Dean spoke, so soft and quiet that Gabriel almost didn't hear him, despite barely being two feet away.

Sam, a good fifteen feet away, apparently did hear it. His shoulders suddenly sagged and he was walking forward. Seeing this, Dean jittered for about half a second before surging forth and grabbing Sam into a tight hug that was readily returned.

Gabriel had filters. Had developed them as a child after years of nonstop migraines and freaking people out with things they hadn't said aloud. And it had been years since he'd bothered to lift them. But given everything, given the concern he had over the safety of his newest brother in the hands of someone who'd so easily slaughtered four muggers, he pulled them back.

He was lucky. Sam and Dean seemed to be the only two people within the thirty foot radius that his little curse boasted. As such, it was easy to pick apart their thoughts.

It was made easier by the fact that Dean's thoughts were a chant of, ' _Sammy, Sammy, Sam, Sam, Sam! He's coming home! Sam!_ '

Sam's were...muted, but there. A dearth of doubt, concern, and hope. ' _Does he really mean it? Was it all one of Dad's lies? Does he want me home? I wanna go home...._ '

' _Oh, shit. GABE!_ ' suddenly sparked out of Dean.

His bodyguard was yanking away from Sam suddenly, and Gabriel quickly slid his filters back into place. He didn't need to answer something unspoken by accident. "Finally remember me, Sunshine?" he spoke in a teasing, if unsteady, tone.

"Fuck, Gabe, I'm sorry, I...uh...I'm sure you gathered as much, but this is Sam. He's my little brother."

"If that's what you call little, Deano, I'd hate to see what you call big," Gabriel quipped, relaxing minutely.

Until Sam took a step toward him. The second he tensed, though, Sam halted. Then he was reaching into a back pocket, from what Gabriel could tell, and pushing a cloth into Dean's hand. "He's got blood on his face," Sam spoke quietly as Dean looked down.

Dean looked up at his brother, back down to the cloth, then nodded and moved over to Gabriel. Gabriel had, during this, brought a hand up. "Oh. ...That's what that was," he spoke, managing to keep his tone to being only slightly disturbed.

Dean was batting Gabriel's hand away, though. "Don't touch. If it's already started to cool, it'll probably just smear around if you try wiping it off without a cloth," he said almost impatiently as he began wiping the blood away.

When he was done, Gabriel glanced over at Sam again. "Sooooo...'whatever else you are?'" he spoke, glancing at a now thoroughly tense Dean before looking back at Sam. "...Your secret to spill here, kiddo. I won't pry if you ask me not to. But uh...I would like to know."

Silence stretched for a moment, and Gabriel was getting really tired of the awkward and tense quiet periods.

"I was turned into a vampire about eight years ago," Sam suddenly spoke, voice so quiet that Gabriel almost didn't hear.

Gabriel nodded slowly. "Right. Vampire. ...Goodnight," he said. He felt his mind snap under that, despite the fact that he had already suspected, and despite the fact that he was a freak of nature with the ability to hear thoughts. With that snap, he lost consciousness, the world quickly descending from shadows into total pitch black.


	2. Chapter 2

Gabriel opened his eyes and bit back a groan, feeling his face scrunch under the dull and insistent throb of his head.

Bar, bourbon, whiskey, a couple of beers...Dean laughing, some skank practically draping over Gabriel himself.

Cool air and dim streetlights.

Guns. Knives.

A very distinct _squelching_ noise. A warm, almost hot splatter across his cheek.

Vampire.

...Vampires are real. Holy ever-loving fuck.

And his bodyguard-brother was brother to a vampire.

Gabriel finally turned his gaze away from the ceiling of his room, and found immediately to his right sat Dean. He was in a wooden dining chair, arms crossed over his chest, chin almost completely tucked to his chest, eyes closed and breath puffing softly into the room. He had a cut over his left eye that had butterfly bandages on it, and the right side of his jaw was swollen with a mottled purpling bruise on it. His right forearm also had a long slash along it, but it'd been stitched. Dean was still wearing his faded rugged blue jeans and old Motley Crew shirt from the night before.

Gabriel watched him with a faint frown, wondering why his bodyguard was keeping vigil. Gabriel hadn't been touched, other than Dean pushing him into the brick wall of the alley. Turning his head a bit more, he saw a glass of water sitting on his nightstand. Beside it, a bottle of Tylenol, and just behind that, Gabriel caught sight of his prescription of Xanax. Further proof that last night hadn't been some sort of alcohol-induced fever dream; Dean never brought that shit out unless he was certain Gabe was about to have a panic attack.

But Gabriel wasn't. Not right now...it might be prudent to pocket those for later, though. He sat up and reached out, getting out four Tylenol as quietly as he could. He set the bottle back down and popped them into his mouth before draining the water from the glass.

After silently setting the glass back down, he stared at Dean for several long moments, considering his next move. ...And, considering that Dean was a mother-hen at the best of times, he opted on not waking his bodyguard and instead heading to put together something to eat.

He slipped over the other side of his bed, not much caring that he was still in last night's clothes (sans shoes, of course), and padded to the bedroom door, opening it and slipping out.

He shut it behind him, but only because there was noise coming from further in the house. Cassie had a key, so he was assuming it was his little brother. He decided on finding him after he got food on a plate, but as he headed toward the kitchen, he realized the noise was coming from there. Stepping through the entry to the room brought him up short.

There was a very tall man in his kitchen that Gabriel didn't recognize. His heart started pounding, and as it did, the man turned from the stove, hazel eyes locking onto his.

He could only wonder if this was what a rabbit felt like, when cornered by a wolf or fox.

But then something clicked in Gabriel's head, and he felt an eyebrow lifting. The height was dead on. "Sam, I take it?" he said.

The man gave a slow blink, then a short nod, turning back to the stove. It almost felt like a dismissal...but Gabriel knew somehow that it wasn't really. Instinct, he supposed, since he still had his filters firmly in place.

"Whatcha fixin' there, tall and broody? Blood sausage?" he quipped.

Sam's head gave a small jerk, and Gabriel heard an amused huff as the vampire's shoulders lost a great deal of tension.

"Cinnamon apple pancakes and bacon," Sam responded quietly, tone carrying his amusement.

Gabriel took a testing sniff of the air, then shuffled over to the other side of the stove, peering around the man. "Never had cinnamon apple pancakes. ...And vampires eat?" he questioned, tilting his head to look up at Sam.

Sam's eyes stayed on the food, and his lips pulled up into a mirthless half-smile. "Not anything humans consider edible," he responded sardonically. A few seconds and he frowned slightly. "Dean's never bothered making you cinnamon apple pancakes?"

"He's my bodyguard, not my cook. ...Not that I have a cook. When I have the time, I prefer to do that myself," Gabriel responded with a shrug.

Sam let out a hum in response. "Yeah, he told me a little bit last night. Says John's bodyguard for your dad," he said.

"Yeah. Definitely not as fun as Sunshine, but Rainbow's a good little watch dog at least."

Sam looked down at Gabriel then, and Gabriel met his gaze, watching the confused frown in humor as Sam appeared to be making connections.

"...You called Dean Sunshine last night, too, before you guys got jumped. Did he finally get his head out of his ass and accept that he's bi?"

Gabriel blinked, then a laugh bubbled out of him as he grinned. "He did, about four months ago," he responded.

"...You're dating your bodyguard?" Sam asked with a frown and a faint hint of judgement in his tone.

Gabriel's nose wrinkled. "What? No! ...Uhg, I cannot think of Dean-o that way. That's...that's uhg," Gabriel said, looking away. "Nah, I call him Sunshine 'cause when I first saw him, the light from the windows caught on his hair, and it looked like there was Sunshine spilling from the top of his head. ...I'm weird, I know," he huffed.

Sam did little more than chuckle. "So...Dad, John...he's Rainbow? How'd you get that one?" he questioned.

"His winning personality," Gabriel said dryly, looking back at Sam. "He was just so...friendly," he spat sarcastically, "that I had to annoy the fuck outta him. Still do," he added with a shrug.

Sam let out a chuckle, and then his tone adopted something warmer. "He told me you hired Bobby, too, to protect your sister," he spoke quietly.

Gabriel tilted his head, curious, but nodding. "Yeah. Singer's pretty great. Gruff old man, but definitely someone I felt like I could trust to take care of the baby of the family."

Sam nodded with a soft smile on his face. "...Who is Raggedy Anne, by the way? Dean said she uh...gives him the skeevies," he questioned, starting to plate food.

"Abbadon Sands. I couldn't really dig up much on her past, but I have a feeling she was an assassin or something," Gabriel mused aloud.

Sam halted, turning to look at him. "...Assassins can be bought. Gabriel, you might want to reconsider who you've got protecting Castiel," he said evenly.

For a moment, Gabriel thought about brushing Sam off. But Sam wasn't just going off his own assumptions; he was working off Dean's, too. The shorter man couldn't help but wonder why Dean had never said anything to Gabriel himself. Finally, he shrugged. "I'll start watching her a bit more closely, then. If I find something off, then yeah...I'll find someone new," he said.

Sam's lips gave a twitch of a smile, and then he held out a plate to him.

"Go have a seat. Dean's about to bust out of your room in a panic, and it'd be a good idea for him to see you before he totally freaks out," he spoke with faint amusement.

They headed out of the kitchen just in time for Gabriel's bedroom door to slam open, Gabriel wincing a bit and wondering if there was a hole in the bottom of the door from the door stopper now.

"Gabriel!" Dean let out in a huge wave of relief, striding over. "Wake me up next time, you ass!" he snapped. He then blinked at the plate in Sam's had and sniffed. "Is that your cinnamon apple pancakes??" he asked, tone both urgent and dreamy at the same time.

Sam just chuckled and held out the plate as Dean neared. "Yes. Now please calm down. Your heart rate is...uncomfortable," he said, lips pulling into a grimace.

Dean took the plate, popping the end of a strip of bacon into his mouth as he looked up at his younger brother. "Un...oh. Right. Sorry, Sammy," Dean spoke, frowning as he moved to sit at the table.

Sam made a waving-it-off gesture, moving to take a seat as well, with Gabriel sitting at the head of the table, watching them. "...How is Sunshine's heart rate uncomfortable for you?"

Dean, busily chowing down, still grimaced in response, but let Sam explain.

"I can hear his heart pumping, his blood flowing. Even when I'm not hungry, it tends to make me want to eat when someone's heart is going double-time," he spoke.

Gabriel tilted his head, considering for a moment. That's what that look when he'd entered the kitchen had been about. Granted, Gabriel hadn't really since much more than a blank stare locked onto him, but how was he to know what a hungry vampire looked like?

"...How are you taking this so easily, man? When Dad and I found out that vampires are real, we freaked out!"

"You freaked out, Dean. Dad broke a chair and stabbed me in the chest with one of the legs," Sam spoke coolly.

Gabriel blinked, eyes going to Sam's clothed chest, then back up to his face. "So uh...wooden stakes don't do the trick then?"

Sam's eyes narrowed as he studied Gabriel for several long moments. Finally, he shook his head. "According to what I've been told, which I'm not sure how much to trust of that...there's barely even a handful of ways to kill a vampire. Easiest is decapitation."

"Who's your source?" Dean spoke suspiciously, eyeing Sam closely.

Sam shot him a scowl. "Not Azazel, if that's what you're thinking. Yeah, he's been lurking around, but for some reason he's trying to keep to the background. ...Crowley, the guy on the phone last night...he seems to know a lot about vampires. I've been able to confirm a few of those things when tracking down nests of 'em," he supplied.

Dean stared for a moment, opening his mouth and shutting it before shaking his head. He then turned a hard stare onto Gabriel. "Back to the question; how are you not freaking out?"

Gabriel blinked before allowing his eyes to dance away from them. He could not tell the truth; they'd never look at him the same again, and would always be suspecting he was picking things out of their minds. Cassie was the only one who knew, and Gabriel intended to keep it that way. So, he just shrugged. "I'm just not. I mean, I did kinda...faint...last night," he said with a frown of consternation. "But other than that...I mean, what's the point? Freaking out isn't going to change facts, is it?" he said, looking back at them.

Dean was nodding and accepting the explanation.

Sam was staring at him flatly, and it took everything Gabriel had not to freak out that somehow Sam knew he was lying and avoiding the truth.

When Dean and Gabriel had finished eating, Sam grabbed their plates and slipped back into the kitchen before they could voice protest. It seemed, however, that Dean wasn't about to protest Sam doing clean up as much as Gabriel. The bodyguard caught his attention with a faint gesture, then pointed toward the front door as he stood. Gabriel stood as well, following him out the front door. Once it was shut behind them, Dean frowned at it, then took a good few steps away and turned, staring at the door again.

"...Sam's got really good hearing, so I don't know how much of this he'll hear or not," Dean began, before turning an uncomfortable frown on Gabriel. "Look...I know you've got me living here as part of my employment contract and all, but--"

It took less than two seconds for Gabriel to get where it was going, and...he just didn't know. "We should discuss that with him, Dean-o. He didn't actually agree, that I heard anyway, to 'come home.' So we need to see if he would want to, to consider this home, in the first place. Plus...I gotta admit, I half trust him, but I'd rather be positive I'm not going to wake to teeth in my throat in the middle of the night, ya know," he interrupted.

Dean blinked, and for a second, he looked ungodly pissed. Then he seemed to settle and shook his head. "Sam doesn't hurt innocent people, Gabriel. Look, I haven't seen him since a week after he came home covered in blood and yelling about not touching him and...and a lot of other shit. But in that week, every night he was out and...eating bad people, basically. Thieves, a rapist he'd spotted...stuff like that. Our dad tried to kick him out the second he made out what Sam was. Well...he tried to kill him first," Dean said with a drawn look to him. He shook his head again. "I just...look, he's my little brother. Tell me that if this was all reversed, if it was me with the house and Cas was the vampire, you wouldn't be asking for the same damned thing."

Gabriel stared for a long moment. If the situation was reversed...if Cassie was out there draining people of blood. Gabriel didn't know if his heart could take that, to know that his little brother had been made into something of nightmares. He felt a frown tugging at his lips, worried over Dean for a moment, then he looked back toward the house. "...I want some questions answered first," he said, looking back at Dean.

"Yeah, anything. Ask away," Dean said readily.

Gabriel scoffed a laugh, shaking his head. "Not you, dunderhead. Sam. Get him to agree to answer any questions I have, and if I'm furthermore satisfied with those answers, then yeah. He can stick around. Not like I don't have the space," he said, throwing in a shrug.

Dean frowned for a second, then nodded eagerly, bouncing a bit on his feet and looking like a kid that had just been told Christmas was tomorrow. "Yeah. Yeah, okay. ...Thanks man, really," he said, shooting Gabriel a grin before taking off for the house.

"I'm gonna regret this. I just know it," he sighed, following after at a leisurely pace.

It had hardly taken more than half a minute for Gabriel to walk back into the house, but by the time he had, Dean was dragging Sam from the kitchen, ignoring the scowl on his younger brother's face.

"Can it. Sit. Answer questions. Do as I say," Dean said firmly.

Sam yanked his arm away, hard enough to knock Dean off balance, and the bodyguard landed solidly on his ass.

"Like hell I'm answering any questions, Dean! You know, if you'd wanted to find me, you could've. You didn't try, so I'm not divulging the last eight years to you, screw you!" he snapped.

"Not him, bucko," Gabriel interceded as he stepped closer, wearing the most shark-like grin he could muster. "See, Dean-o here, he wants you around. Problem is, he stays on the grounds as part of his employment terms. Thus, he has nowhere to put you. He asked, and I decided that I might concede and give you a room, should you answer _my_ questions...not his. So, have a seat, won't you?" Gabriel said, gesturing to the table.

Sam stared blankly for a second before glancing at Dean as he climbed to his feet. He looked suspicious, but after a long moment, finally sat down at the table.

Gabriel, giving a nod of approval, took a seat across from him. He watched as Dean made to sit as well, but raised a hand. "Actually, Sunshine, could you go out and get me a few tubs of ice cream?" he spoke. He wanted as much quiet for this as he could get.

Dean halted, gaze playing ping-pong between Gabriel and Sam before he huffed. "Yeah. Fine. Usuals?"

"Yep!" Gabriel said with a grin.

Dean moved and pulled on his shoes by the door, snagged his keys from their designated hook, then slipped out the door without a backward glance.

Gabriel and Sam both watched him go, but once the door was shut, Sam looked at Gabriel. Gabriel, however, waited. He heard Dean's precious Impala rumble to life, and waited until the rumble started to fade before deeming it safe.

Promptly, he dropped his filters as he met Sam's gaze.

' _Whiskey in the sun, or melted caramel. Liquid gold, plain and simple, but the hues kinda--_ '

"Right, questions!" Gabriel cut in, trying not to flush as Sam apparently waxed poetic about his eyes. "Let's start with--where have you been?"

Sam raised an eyebrow. ' _Where have I been? Really? ...Well, it's not like it's the only question he's going to ask, and it is somewhere to start. Still, I'm hardly--_ '

"Around," he said vaguely with a shrug in response.

"Not good enough, kiddo," Gabriel warned.

' _Good enough, my ass. What a dick. ...Dean actually wants me here, though? I mean, he obviously asked, so m--_ '

"Around here. Around Dean, specifically, though my hunting territory is near downtown," Sam spoke with a faint frown.

"You've been stalking your brother?"

Sam shot him a sharp scowl. ' _He doesn't have to make it sound disgusting! Uhg, seriously. Dick. Maybe I should ask Dean--_ '

"Considering that if I don't, there's a good chance he'll be used against me? Yeah, I have," Sam snapped lowly.

"This Azazel guy you two have talked about? Who is he, anyway?" Gabriel questioned.

Sam's mind roiled with rage, thoughts swirling too fast for Gabriel to pick up.

"The asshole who turned me," Sam clipped out, looking away.

' _Don't think about it, don't think about it, it's okay, just relax, don't think ab--_ '

"How'd he do that, anyway? Are we talking Buffy vamps, or Anne Rice vamps?" Gabriel pressed.

Sam went rigid. _'Just a little girl, she was just--_ '

"Anne Rice," Sam spoke, his voice suddenly gaining a haunted quality. His mind was swirling with rage and guilt. The guilt was so heavy it nearly drowned everything else away.

Gabriel wanted to know and opened his mouth to ask, but he promptly snapped it shut. Do not respond to things unspoken!

"So, Sunshine told me your usual buffet consists of the worst of the worst. That true?" he ventured.

It took a moment before the circling thoughts finally broke apart. In response to the question, Sam gave a short nod.

Gabriel also nodded. "So, I don't need to worry about waking up--"

"With teeth in your throat? Not unless you do something fucked up," Sam said.

' _Heard every damned word you and Dean said, and I hope you're sharp enough of a tack to realize I just echoed your freaking words right back, you ass!_ '

It took all Gabriel had not to retort. "Mm. So you heard. It's a valid concern, in my books. I don't know you from Jack, Sam. And you could kill me, very easily. I remember what you did last night, and I'd be stupid to think anything could stop you if you were decided on it. And thus, here we are," he said with a gesture of his arms.

' _He's smart, that's for sure, even if he is a posturing asshole._ '

"You're right. You don't know me. If it weren't for Dean wanting me around, I'd be gone already, and you wouldn't have to worry about it. ...But that begs the question, what are you gaining out of giving in to my brother's demands?" Sam asked with narrowed eyes.

Gabriel rolled his eyes. "Dean's a friend. He's my best friend, even though I've barely known even two years yet. He knows a great deal about what I've lived through and why. And he never asks for anything, not ever. So when he's practically groveling in the driveway because he wants his long-lost little brother to stick around, but has nowhere to keep him, yeah, I'm gonna cave. Now...this is supposed to be your interrogation, not mine. But, I'll be nice and give you one last one; do I have your word that you will do nothing to harm me or those I care for?"

' _Someone's here. That's not Dean's car. ...What the hell is that smell, uhg!_ '

"Uh...yeah. Yeah, uhm...I think someone's in the driveway," Sam spoke.

Gabriel was already looking at the door following Sam's thoughts, frowning a bit.

'- _-called when he got in. He worries me all the damned time. I probably should've just called Dean to check in, but...but I just can't do that. Every time he-_ -'

' _Waste of time. Waste of space. All of them, I'm so--_ '

Gabriel recoiled, slamming his filters into place. He recognized Cassie easily enough, but he'd never heard Abbadon's thoughts...never _felt_ them. They burned like hot iron, and Gabriel couldn't help a wince as the pain continued to throb through his head.

Sam was standing when Gabriel managed awareness again, glancing at Gabriel worriedly every few seconds, and eyeing the door warily in between the looks.

Gabriel bit back a groan as he stood. He'd never felt anything like that...like this. Whatever he'd picked up off Abbadon was shooting from his brain, into his spinal cord, and it was sharp and painful. He ignored it as best as he could, heading for the door.

When he reached it, though, Sam was suddenly beside him, catching his wrist. Gabriel blinked and looked up as the sound of car doors echoed from outside. Sam wasn't really looking at Gabriel, more at the floor past him. His nose was wrinkled, and there was a confused look in his eyes.

Before Gabriel could say anything, there was the distinct sound of a key sliding into a lock. Sam moved, one arm wrapping around Gabriel's back and pulling him into Sam's chest. The other hand gripped tight and careful to the back of Gabriel's neck. There was a yanking sort of sensation, and when Gabriel managed to look up after Sam let go of his neck, they were all the way in the living room. Sam was glaring daggers at the door as it opened, nose still wrinkled as he let go of Gabriel and stepped back slowly. He was still unusually close, though.

Deciding to break the tension of his guest, Gabriel turned toward the door. "Cassie! Did I forget to call you again when I got in?" he chirped. His little brother, barely inside the door, looked over and his shoulders gave the barest bit of a slump at seeing the shorter man.

"Gabriel, why must you worry me?" he fussed.

Abbadon was stepping in behind him, shutting the door, her expression a blank mask, as ever

...Until her eyes landed on Sam. She moved, a flick of a wrist that had Gabriel startling and staring at her. Cassie noticed his stare and turned to look at his bodyguard, then followed her line of sight. When his eyes widened minutely, Gabriel turned to look as well.

Sam stood there in the living room, still, a dagger caught in his hand inches from his face. He wasn't looking at; he was staring death at Abbadon.

Gabriel had a feeling this was about to get very bad.

"Raggedy Anne! I see you've met Sunshine's brother, Moose!" he said.

There was a faint twitch from Sam, showing he'd heard Gabriel, but he didn't move otherwise. Turning to look at Abbadon had Gabriel blinking. For a second, he thought....

Gabriel looked at Cassie, who was staring now curiously at Sam. Gabriel reached out and grabbed his little brother's wrist, tapping the inside of it twice. Their old signal, telling Cassie, _ground me_.

Gabriel dropped his filters.

Cassie remembered how to do this, and Gabriel was relieved and grateful. Cassie had this way of projecting soft thoughts, that were warm and cool in equal measure. They felt like home. Those thoughts were the first he felt.

Abbadon's were next, and they seared into his mind. He gripped tight to Cassie's wrist, trying not to go to his knees.

Sam's were last. They were angry, but also throbbing with protectiveness.

' _Vampire, vampire, what the fuck is a vampire doing here?! This is going to blow everything!_ ' Abbadon's thoughts screeched.

' _The fuck is that thing?! I've got to get it away from them!_ '

Thing. Thing? Fuck. Filters slamming back down, Gabriel eyed Abbadon and tugged Cassie, slowly moving away from his younger brother's bodyguard.

But of course she noticed. Her eyes moved to them, and Gabriel froze, heart rate skyrocketing when her eyes.... _Her eyes are black. Fuck, I actually did see that earlier. Oh, fuck, what the hell?!_

Abbadon turned toward them, and all hell broke loose.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam had heard a car approaching from the distant end of the driveway, but it wasn't until it was halfway to the house that he could tell it wasn't Dean's beloved Impala.

The sound of the unknown vehicle had been what had caught his attention first. But that smell...it had been second.

Sam had had a lot of trouble, in the beginning, figuring out how to disregard the many smells of his surroundings. But this smell...he'd only smelled something similar once before. He was convinced that there was a rotting, desiccated corpse somewhere in the car, that had been left in the sun and heat for far too long...despite the fact that it was near the year-end and they were enduring cooler temperatures right now.

He'd told Gabriel someone was there, but noticed that Gabriel was already looking at the door as he said it. Weird. You'd almost think he was the one with the enhanced senses.

He watched as Gabriel suddenly flinched back bodily in his seat. Sam frowned, moving to stand, glancing at the door and catching Gabriel's subsequent winces. What the hell was going on?

And then, still wincing, Gabriel was making for the door. As he reached out to open it, Sam felt a flash of danger surge through him. He'd come to trust his instincts in his time as a vampire, and understood something was very wrong. With no other thought, Sam shot from the dining room to grab Gabriel's wrist as carefully and firmly as he could, halting him.

There was the sound of car doors, but little else. That smell...it was growing closer. Fuck, what was that?? Why and how was it coming closer?

A jingle of keys followed by the sound of a key sliding into a lock snapped Sam out of it. He pulled Gabriel to his chest and braced a hand against his neck, whipping him away from the door and into the safety of the living room, trying to give them space between whatever was coming.

Releasing the smaller man, Sam stepped away slightly, staring down the door as it began to open.

A human stepped in. Black hair with faint natural brown highlights in it, and deep piercing blue eyes, around Dean's height. While some of that smell was lingering on him, likely from approximation to the source, he wasn't the source himself.

The woman, or whatever she actually was, that stepped in behind him? She was the source. And how she looked perfectly normal, Sam couldn't guess.

Gabriel was talking to the new human. Cassie...Castiel? The brother that Dean had mentioned?

That made this Abbadon, his bodyguard.

Her eyes locked on his, and somehow, he knew that she was fully aware of what he was. That she was a threat to all three of them, and was considering Sam a threat in turn. Where the dagger had come from, he hadn't noticed, but he easily caught it before it could embed in his face, and he silently promised her death with his eyes, staring her down.

Her eyes flashed black, completely black for a moment. Pupil, iris, sclera, all black...and then normal again.

It wasn't until Gabriel did another bodily flinch and slowly began to back away that shit hit the fan.

She turned to look at the retreating brothers, eyes solidly pitch once again. She reached out a hand toward them, and Sam's old training, his life-long lessons at the hands of his father, kicked in. The dagger was flipped and thrown, embeding into her hand. Even as she shrieked, Sam was following after it, heading for her in a streak of movement that had Gabriel spinning and starting to run, tugging his brother along with him.

Sam didn't hesitate to tackle the woman to the ground, even as his stomach roiled against her disgusting smell.

They essentially rolled around the floor, trading blows that would've laid a human out for days, if not weeks.

But she was stronger, Sam realized, when she pinned him to the floor a second time. Only this time, he couldn't regain the upper hand when she slapped a palm to his chest, somehow pinning him in place without any other exertion. He couldn't move, not in the slightest. His arms wouldn't lift from the floor, his legs were stuck in position...he couldn't do more than shake his head a bit.

"Oh, you're fun," she purred out with a dark laugh.

Sam could see Gabriel and Castiel from the corner of his eyes. Gabriel hadn't pulled them far enough away, in Sam's opinion. Just to the other side of the dining room.

Abbadon noticed his inattention and looked over. When Sam and the thing above him met gazes once again, she had a feral grin on her face. "Oh, don't you worry about them, sweetheart! You won't be around to watch what I'm gonna do with those two meat sacks," she spoke in a tone that was sickeningly jovial.

There was a dagger in her hand again and she wasted no time in burying its blade in his throat.

Of course, that would be what Dean walked in to see. Abbadon whipped her coal gaze onto Sam's big brother when he dropped the bags in his hands.

Sam was a bit distracted by the blood leaching out of him. Chances of surviving this were low...especially not without harming someone that didn't deserve it.

"You are shitting me!" he heard Dean exclaim. That was quickly followed by...Latin? When in the hell did Dean learn Latin?? " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spir--"_

Dean cut off with a choking sound, and Abbadon looked beyond pissed.

But Sam could move. He reached up with both hands and wrenched her head, snapping her neck.

Everything froze for a second, and then Abbadon was looking at him with her neck at an awkward angle. "...Ow."

Sam's back bowed as something twisted and writhed inside him. Like fire or acid tugging and eating at his insides. How he wasn't screaming, he wasn't sure. Maybe the blade still in his throat had hit his vocal cords? Because of that, because of his own silence, he could hear Dean starting again. " _Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus omnis sata"_

The pain vanished, and Dean let out a grunt.

But somehow, Gabriel was picking it up immediately. " _satanica potestas, omnis incursio_  
 _infernalis adver--_ NN!"

Back and forth the Latin went, between Dean and Gabriel, Abbadon throwing whatever weird power she had at them to try and stop it. In the end, though, she was shrieking, head tilting back as smoke, vile and putrid and too-black spilled out of her mouth and seemed to vanish into the air.

The body slumped over him, and everything went quiet until Sam managed the strength to shove it off. It smelled freshly dead, nothing like what that smoke had smelled like.

"Shit, Sammy!" Dean's voice came, and the sound of him scrambling over. He almost wanted to laugh as Dean yanked the blade from his throat. Did he not remember basic first aid? That could kill a person. ...Well, a human. ...Sam felt loopy, though, and knew he needed to eat. But he couldn't even go out like this, with a gaping and bleeding wound through his neck.

"Pretty sure he needs a snack, Dean-o," Gabriel voice came from close by. Sam kept his gaze on the ceiling, trying to ignore the sounds of hearts pumping blood through bodies.

"Fuck. ...Fuck! Okay, okay...uhm..." Dean began. He was mostly in Sam's field of vision, and had, for half a second, looked indecisive.

"I don't think a snack is going to fix this situation, Gabriel," Castiel's voice came as they grew closer.

"Not in the usual situations, no. But Sammy here's a vampire. I don't know much of how it works, but I'm pretty sure a snack, in his case, would mean being able to recover from the nastiness that is his neck right now," Gabriel spoke, tone flippant.

Castiel's footsteps faltered. And Dean was lifting Sam off the ground. Sam ground his teeth together, trying not to yell out in pain. Not that he thought he really could; he was pretty positive now that his vocal cords were fucked, if only temporarily.

Dean was moving him, though, glancing back at Gabriel. "Yeah, onto another subject; how the fuck do you know exorcisms?"

There was a pause, a stuttered heart beat, and Sam knew a lie was being spoken before the words reached him. "Extra curricular in college. Religious studies. Guess it stuck. Once I heard you start it, it was easy to catch on," Gabriel spoke, tone once again flippant.

A narrowing of Dean's eyes showed that he didn't buy it. There was another stuttered heart beat, but this one not as pronounced as Gabriel's, and Castiel spoke up. "Isn't that where you met Kali?"

Silence was in the wake of that question, but Dean had visibly flinched at the name. Whoever Kali was, it was enough to make Dean back off and return his focus to his younger brother as he laid him out on the sofa. "...Alright, Sammy. I...I wish I'd been around for the past eight years to feel a bit more confident about your control, but...I'm trusting you here, man, and I definitely don't want you like...dying somehow or something, so...try not to maul my wrist, alright?" he spoke, taking a seat on the floor beside the sofa and pressing his wrist to Sam's lips.

Sam flinched as he felt the blood pulsing under his brother's skin, but he quickly turned his head to face the back of the sofa, refusing even if the motion to turn away hurt something awful.

"Sam...come on, dammit. You need it, right? It's okay, man. Just...just take what you need," Dean coaxed.

There was silence in response, and then Gabriel let out a huff of air. "He's not going to do it, Dean," he began. "It's not because...well, it's not _just_ because you're his brother. It's more because you wouldn't be able to give enough for him to recover from all that bitch did to him."

Another stretch of silence, and thank the gods, Dean asked the question Sam desperately wanted answered. "And how do you know that?" Unlike Sam, however, Dean's tone didn't carry the suspicion Sam's would've.

When nothing but a discomforted quiet, lasting several minutes, filled the air, Dean huffed and stood. Sam grit his teeth as he moved enough to see the hurt in his brother's eyes.

"Like hell!" Gabriel's voice suddenly snapped. "It's not like that, Dean! I just...gods fucking dammit!" he snarled.

"Gabriel has, since childhood, had the ability to pick up the thoughts of those around him," Castiel's voice came in a calm and even tone.

Sam froze, his eyes widening. Dean did the same thing.

There was a footstep a bare second later, too light to be Castiel's. Sam eyed his brother, wondering what he was thinking. He could accept that Sam was a vampire...could he accept his boss was an apparent telepath or mind reader or whatever?

A huff of air carrying enough of voice to it for him to identify it as coming from Gabriel sounded into the room.

"No, I had no idea. I usually keep my filters, my uh...guard up. But with everything that's been going on lately, I let 'em down. I'm not as hesitant to use it after what happened last year. ...No religious studies in college...I picked the exorcism up right outta your head, Dean-o," Gabriel spoke with a shrug.

"Are you going to be doing that often now? And uh...we uh...we still cool about the...thing?" Dean spoke, eyes darting for a second before going back to where they were apparently staring at Gabriel. Sam couldn't see Gabriel or Castiel; they were on the other side of the sofa.

"No, not gonna do it often, and yes, we're cool," Gabriel spoke, a smirk practically filling his voice. "But you might wanna see about pushing things. ...Anyway, it's going to be a bit before I put the filter back up. Seems to hurt more after...feeling Abbadon's thoughts."

"Feeling her thoughts?" Castiel spoke, concern lancing through his tone.

"Later, Cassie. Right now, we need to see about getting the steadily-getting-worse vampire here a decent amount of blood that he might actually drink," Gabriel spoke.

Sam's lips pulled into a frown. That wasn't happening. No fucking way. Sam was just going to have to wait till dark so that his wound wouldn't be noticeable right away, and then go hunting. He was definitely not gonna let these three near any of the asshats that were Sam's typical choice of meal.

"Funny you think you could actually stop us. Or leave for that matter. Sammy, you can't fucking move, and we've all noticed that," Gabriel spoke, stepping around the corner of the sofa.

Sam tilted his head to shoot a glare at him, but the expression failed when a surge of fresh pain lanced through him at the movement.

Dean's eyes were darting between Sam and Gabriel, a worried frown tugging at his lips. Sam ignored it and instead trying to sag back down into a more comfortable position, hands clenching into fists under the waves of pain that followed.

How in the hell was Sam supposed to get 'food?' He couldn't, not like this...Gabriel was right on that, even if he was being a dick about it.

"You know...all this name calling of dick, ass, asshole...I'm starting to think you want to get into my pants, Moose," Gabriel said, leaning over him with a teasing grin.

It occurred to Sam, after a bare few seconds, that Gabriel had been reading his mind during the questions earlier. The grin that widened over the smaller man's face said that yes, yes he had.

But then Sam's mind decided to backtrack over Gabriel's words and it halted. _Moose_. Ah, fuck. ...It was his only option here, though.

Sam frowned, focusing his eyes on Gabriel's. _My cell is in the kitchen. The fourth speed dial is Crowley. If you tell him I'll turn Eighth back over to him, he'll probably send over a couple of lowlifes on the outs with him for me to...eat_.

Gabriel tilted his head and considered for a moment. "...You sure he's not gonna just take advantage of your current state? Didn't seem like you had the most secure of relationships over the phone last night."

Dean was looking back and forth, obviously desperate to know what the hell was being said. Castiel had stepped up to the back of the sofa by this time, gazing curiously down at Sam, but didn't seem bothered by the one-sided conversation.

Sam smirked and resisted the urge to give a half-shrug. _He owes me, far more than that little contract of ours could ever repay, and he knows it. In addition, he's not the type to kill someone rather than repay his debts. ...But I would feel more comfortable about the whole situation if, at the very least, you and Castiel aren't around when they show. Preferably Dean, too, but I doubt he's gonna let that slide_.

Gabriel pursed his lips. "Mm. You're right, you are, but...that leaves me and Cassie open and vulnerable, so we're going to stick around anyway," he said, before looking up at Dean, then Castiel. "'scuse me, gentleman! I have a call to make," he said.

 _Passcode to the phone is 0124_.

A warm laugh followed Sam's thought as Gabriel walked off.

Dean leaned over him. "I don't know who the hell this Crowley character is, but if that's who you've got Gabe contacting, then you had better give me more info soon as you're good to go again," he said with a frown.

Sam narrowed his eyes at his older brother, but after a moment gave the slightest gesture of a nod, wincing despite how minute it was. If Crowley was going to be sending people here, then Dean needed to know. This was his job. These were his friends. Sam wouldn't keep a lid on it all for those very reasons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Some of you may already know this, but some of you are new readers, so here's the low down on the update schedule:
> 
> I will be updating this as frequently as possible, during the weekdays. I tend to sleep through most of the weekends, and so, I usually only update during the work week.
> 
> During the first of the month, on weekdays, work is exceedingly busy for me. Next week starts the new month, so for 2-3 days, I will not be updating at all.
> 
> That means that the earliest you'll see the next chapter is Wednesday the 4th, with the possibility of it being Thursday the 5th instead.
> 
> This story, I've finally decided, will switch POV between Gabriel and Sam randomly, much like it does with my story My Name Is Human. Sometimes it may be every other chapter, sometimes not. There will be subtle clues as to the POV. The biggest clue is whether Castiel is called Cas or Cassie, even though he may not be included in all chapters.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy this story and will continue to do so. I apologize that it'll be 4-5 days before the next update, and do hope that you all don't mind bearing with me for that.
> 
> Thanks for being a reader!
> 
> Also, comments are much loved, and I tend to almost always reply. <3


	4. Chapter 4

Finding Sam's cell phone sitting innocuously on the counter beside the stove, Gabriel snapped it up, tapped the power button, and put in the numerical version of Dean's month-and-day birthdate. The lock screen was a surprisingly good picture of Dean's Impala, looking much like it'd been taken for a magazine rather than candidly.

The home screen was a picture of a picture. It was clearly snapped from a newspaper, the edges of the article title just barely able to be read: Missing Nine Year Old! it proclaimed.

And she was amazingly beautiful, even in the black-and-white tones of the newspaper. Dark skinned, curly ringlets poofing about her face, a button nose and a bright smile.

Gabriel remembered Sam's earlier thoughts, how he'd been despairing over something that obviously happened when he was first turned, since their subject had been Azazel and how he turned him at that time. Sam's thoughts had been churning with guilt over a little girl, and Gabriel was pretty positive that this was that girl.

Resolving himself to get the story out of Sam at a later time, to reserve any judgement until he knew for certain what had happened, he brought up the phone up, tapped the number 4, then tapped the speed dial option it brought up before bringing the phone to his ear.

Halfway through the second ring, the phone was picked up. "What now, Moose? Someone else dare to step out of line?" the clipped British voice spoke.

"Gee, do you answer all your calls like that?" Gabriel quipped.

There was a long beat of silence, then a deceptively calm, "And just who am I speaking with?"

Gabriel's eyes danced toward the entry of the kitchen as he considered. ...He was going to be giving his address anyway, so what was the point in attempting to hide his identity. "Gabriel Shurley, not that I have much of a mind to talk to you often," he said. He paused a bare second, then plunged on ahead. "Our mutual acquaintance has a request for you. Two extra large sacks of useless that you don't really have need of anymore, if you would."

Crowley didn't respond right away. He seemed to be thinking things over. Gabriel waited; Sam had said to offer Eighth Street back, but Gabriel wasn't going to do that unless he needed to sweeten the pot, so to speak.

"Hm, so the Moose has gone and gotten himself injured. ...So why is it that he didn't call me himself?" Crowley spoke.

Gabriel blinked. Uh, shit. "He had a blade buried in his throat...doesn't seem able to talk much," he spoke, carefully avoiding explaining things further. Hopefully Crowley would draw a conclusion on his own, such as Sam writing out a message.

Instead, the shrewd asshat spoke up with an, "And he couldn't text?"

Gabriel was screaming curses in his mind, grinning tightly at the backsplash under the cabinets as he responded. "He probably could've, but I'm guessing he's a bit too out of it to have thought of that. I mean, there's a mess of blood all over my dining room floor, and I know humans don't do well in that situation. Not sure how it differs for what he is, but I'd imagine some sort of impaired brain function," he spoke, keeping his tone as light as he could manage.

Crowley let out a hum over the line. "Right then," he said after a beat. "I will require an address, please," he spoke in a bored tone.

Gabriel paused for just a second, then sighed quietly. This was why he'd made the call. No use in hesitating now. "1389 West Pine Hill Road," he rattled off.

"Mm. Ta," the man spoke, and the line went dead.

Gabriel made his way back into the living room, where Cassie had taken up a sofa chair near the wall-mounted TV, and was watching Sam and Dean. Sam was still laying on the sofa and had apparently turned his head so he could see his brother, who was sitting on the floor by the sofa once again.

They were all quiet, save their thoughts.

' _\--ver mentioned a brother before, but surely Gabriel knew, after his background investigation before he hired all of them. Then again, he did hire Abbadon...whatever she was. What was with those black eyes? ...Exorcism, Dean had said exorcism, and it was definitely Latin they were both speaking. A demon, truly? ...I suppose it's not so far-fetched as there's a vampire laying just there across from me...._ '

' _\--not going rabid? He's lost too much, he should be going after any available source. ...Guess I should just be grateful he's not, given what Gabe said, given that he needs more than I could possibly provide. Still...what's he been through to be able to afford that much control? Will he tell me if I ask? Hell, he was barely talking to me that last week, eight freaking years ago! And just this morning, he said I could've found him if I'd wanted to...and...I did want to, but...hell, why didn't I look? Fuck, I should've tried to find him. I just...I thought if he didn't want me around, then...I don't know, what the fuck was I thinking? ...I want my brother back, just want him to be okay, however and whatever that means now._ '

' _He's doing that thing again. That weight-of-the-world stare again. I hope he's not blaming himself for this. This is by and far not his fault, and I'd've been fucked if he hadn't shown when he did. We all woulda been. ...Demons. Really? How the fuck did I not know about demons? I'm a freaking vampire! ...I'm going to have to see if Crowley will help--wait a second. How did Dean know about demons? ...What the actual--Gabriel's headed this...hears my thoughts. Gabe?_ '

"Yes, Sammich?" Gabriel answered as he neared.

That brought Cassie's gaze to him, and Dean's head snapped up in surprise for a moment before he apparently recalled that Gabriel could respond to unspoken words.

Gabriel pushed his little brother's, and his bodyguard's, thoughts to the background, allowing Sam to be his focus.

' _Crowley sending people over? And uh...would you mind being a go-between for a bit?_ '

"He is...and I suppose I could deign you worthy of acting as your intermediary, for now," Gabriel responded.

Dean's eyes narrowed at Gabriel, and he was radiating a clear dislike of not knowing what was being unspoken.

' _Thanks_ ,' Sam's thoughts came, weighted heavily with sincerity. ' _Let's start with telling Dean to get over himself? I don't have viable vocal cords right now, so he's going to have to deal with someone else putting my words out for me._ '

Gabriel smirked, chuckling a bit. "Calm down already, Sunshine. Sammy here says for you to get over yourself. He literally can't talk, so I'm going to be doing it for him," he said, stepping closer to the back of the sofa. He dropped Sam's phone down onto his stomach, then shoved his hands into his pockets as he stared at Dean.

Dean looked a bit indignant at that, but turned his eyes onto Sam. "...Bitch," he spoke in an almost fond tone.

' _Jerk_ ,' shot out of Sam's thoughts immediately, and it was swathed in warmth.

Gabriel blinked a couple of times, raising an eyebrow. "Uh...jerk?" he spoke aloud, looking at Dean in puzzlement.

Dean huffed a laugh, shaking his head.

' _Sorry. It's our brand of terms of endearment_ ,' Sam explained. When Gabriel did little more than give a nod of acknowledgement, Sam continued on. ' _So, I didn't know about demons...would you mind asking Dean how he knew for me?_ '

"I'd like to know that, too, actually," Gabriel began aloud, drawing Dean's attention back to him. "...Our resident vamp apparently didn't have a clue as to the existence of demons, and we're all curious as to how you did, Sunshine, and happened to have an exorcism memorized to boot," he prompted.

Dean blinked a couple of times, mind starting and stopping in different areas. Rather than pull his thoughts to the forefront, Gabriel waited to see what he'd speak aloud.

"Bobby," Dean spoke shortly, in way of explanation. He knew that wasn't enough, because after a bare second, he continued, looking back down to meet Sam's gaze. "When you vanished on us, we had to tell Bobby something. ...Well, I did. Dad...Dad refused to say anything about you. He...I'm sorry, Sammy. He just acted like you didn't exist, like you'd never existed..." he said with a strained look about him. He shook his head after a second and plunged on. "I tried telling Bobby you'd...gone on a walkabout, but he wouldn't buy it. ...I didn't think he'd believe me anyway, so I wound up telling him the truth, telling him about what'd happened to you and that I didn't know where you'd gone or why...but he believed every word of it. He pretty much stopped talking to Dad after that...even threatened to shoot him if he came back by his house again...but he let me come 'round. And he taught me a lotta shit. He mostly laid off the vamp stuff, because I was a bit of an asshole when it came to that subject. But he taught me about demons and werewolves and shifters and a slew of other things that go bump in the night. At first...I really didn't believe any of it. Hell, some part of me still thinks it's all in my head, but...I took all the lessons to heart anyway, because if vampires were real, if you really were one...then it only stood to reason that some of those other things were, too," he explained.

' _Bobby? Bobby...Bobby knows I'm a vampire? ...And he threatened to shoot Da--John. Does...does that mean Bobby would still want me around, even though I'm the stuff of--_ '

"So how's Singer gonna react to the Samsquatch here?" Gabriel questioned.

Sam's head turned toward Gabriel in a sudden jerk, and then his back tried to bow before he froze, mind a whirl of screaming curses, loud enough to make Gabriel wince despite the mutedness that Sam's thoughts normally carried.

"Shit, Sam! Don't freaking move!" Dean hissed, reaching up and grabbing his brother's hand, trying to offer support. Sam didn't try to pull away, but he wasn't holding Dean's hand back, either. Gabriel picked up a small, barely-there thread of thought from that...something along the lines of not wanting to accidently crush Dean's hand.

"Let go of his hand, Dean-o. He's trying not to crush it," Gabriel spoke gently.

Dean blinked up at Gabriel and, frowning, pulled his hand away.

It took a moment for Sam to carefully sink back down into the sofa cushions, now staring up at the ceiling. '... _I appreciate it, but I'm not so sure I want th--_ '

"I asked him that, a couple of years after Sam vanished. Asked him what he thought, of Sam no longer being human...of what he'd do if he showed back up," Dean's voice interrupted the pattern of Sam's thoughts, now that his little brother seemed to be more at ease. Sam stilled, mind carefully blank as he listened. "He said...he said he wasn't John and that...that didn't matter, because even if we weren't his by birth, we were by uh...by circumstance, I think's what he said. ...And he said if you showed again, you'd be welcome. I mean...I'd told him what I knew, that you weren't hunting down innocent people, but I kinda got the feeling that even if you were, he'd listen to what you had to say about it, at the least," he spoke quietly.

Sam was quiet, through and through. And while Gabriel could pick up emotion with thought, wasn't a full on empath with his mind-reading curse, he still had a sense that Sam was overwhelmed with emotion from the man that was a better father than his biological one.

' _I wanna see him..._ ' tracked out of Sam after a long moment. His eyes then cut to Gabriel quickly. ' _Not a request! Just...one of my own thoughts. ...Definitely don't want him seeing me like this, all bloodied and messed up. ...I might go see about visiting him later, though. But I know Bobby, know that he'll be taking his job of protecting your sister to heart, and that he's not about to leave her alone for any real span of time. ...So would you be willing to trust me to be around your sister when I go to see him?_ '

Gabriel peered curiously down at Sam. Even when he'd outed himself, when Cassie had followed up and stated clearly that Gabriel could hear the thoughts of others, Sam hadn't reacted in any sort of negative way. He hadn't had an issue with it at all. Dean had. Dean had immediately swarmed with thoughts that Gabriel hadn't had a clue of beforehand...some of his most private secrets that Gabriel had done his resolute best to ignore in that moment. ...But Sam hadn't reacted that way.

Not even Cassie had reacted in such a manner, when Gabriel had cared to reveal his little curse to his favorite brother so many moons ago. Sure, now Cassie was a grounding force when Gabriel decided to drop the veil between him and the world, but at the beginning, it'd put a bad strain on their relationship for months.

Sam...he just accepted it. And here was further proof. The proof was that Sam had presence of mind to clarify thoughts he didn't want exposed to light. He hadn't so much as had an angry, errant thought after Gabriel had exposed his want to know of Bobby's thoughts on his vampirism. But he had apparently picked up that Gabriel couldn't fully discern between stray thoughts and things that wanted to be spoken, and hadn't faulted him for it. Instead, when finding himself thinking something idly, he'd immediately clarified that he didn't want it brought to light.

...And honestly? Gabriel didn't know what to make of that, what to think of it.

"Hm...I guess I don't mind," Gabriel answered aloud. "I mean...you're clearly not the bloodthirsty monster that old books warn about. ...But I think it should go without saying that, should you harm my little sister in any way, I will hunt you down, gut you, and leave you hanging in a field without any way to get to a viable source of what counts as nutrition for you. Clear?"

Cassie looked vaguely disturbed. So did Dean-o, for that matter, but he also looked humored.

Sam's lips twisted in a faint, understanding smile. ' _Clear_ ,' he responded, the thought muted as always, but also with a softness to it that Gabriel decided not to investigate.

"Anyway...the last of those stabby head pains are gone, so I'm going to put my filters back up," Gabriel began.

Sam blinked in response, his mind going carefully blank.

Relieved thoughts were rolling off of Dean, and Cassie was tilting his head.

"Brother, I'm not so sure that's wise. At present, you are the only one able to communicate with...with Sam," he said, glancing at their wounded, bloodied guest. There was a faint unease to his little brother as he looked at the vampire.

"Yes, yes, Cassie, I'm fully aware, but have you stopped to consider that I can hear every thought going through his head? Not to mention, much as I try and push them to the background, I'm still picking up on yours and Deanie-beanie's thoughts here and there. While it's good for communication at present, it's also bad for giving any of you any semblance of privacy within the space of your own heads. Not to mention, much longer with all of you thinking and I'm going to wind up with a migraine. So...any other objections? No? Good," Gabriel spoke, and firmly slammed his filters down.

If he had to listen to one more of Dean's thoughts about how he'd much rather be on his knees in front of Cassie than sitting beside his injured brother, he was going to scream. He really didn't want to think about his baby brother like that.

He let out a faint sigh at the quiet of his own mind. "...It's 5 o'clock somewhere," he muttered, then glanced at his brother. "I'm gonna go suck down on that bottle of strawberry Bailey's in the fridge. Want anything?"

"Tea...that tea you got a couple of months ago, with some honey," Cassie spoke, a faint warm smile on his lips.

"I'd like a beer!" Dean chimed with a shit-eating grin. He hadn't been asked, and that's exactly why he bore his current expression.

"Get it yourself," Gabriel shot back with a snort, heading for the kitchen. Dean was seconds behind him in retrieving the beer, and was soon back out of the kitchen. Gabriel put a kettle of water on the stove, then pulled out the mug specifically for Cassie. He added a moderate amount of honey to the bottom, as Cassie liked it, and then dropped a tea bag into the cup, smiling a bit to himself. Every time Cassie came by, since Gabriel had picked this tea up at a state fair a couple of months ago, he had at least one mug of it. Gabriel felt very proud of himself for picking out a tea that his little brother enjoyed so much.

Waiting on the kettle, Gabriel got an overly large glass out of the cabinet and filled it about a third with ice. He then pulled his strawberry Bailey's out of the fridge and poured it over the ice. It turned out that, in filling the glass, he emptied the last of it. Sighing faintly as he pouted at the empty bottle, he tucked it away into the trash can under the sink, making a mental note to go and get another bottle when he next went out.

Two sips of his drink later and the kettle began to whistle. Not wanting to hear it reach a fever pitch, he quickly set his glass down and stepped over, flipping off the eye and lifting the kettle, pouring the hot water over the tea and honey in Cassie's mug. A quick stir with a spoon later, and he was carrying his drink and Cassie's tea out to the living room.

He handed off the tea and turned to make for a seat, but paused as his eyes swept over the room's other occupants.

Dean now sat on the floor with his back to the sofa, taking a pull off his beer.

Sam had moved slightly, his head tilted down and to the side, and he was staring at the front door. There was a faint hungry look in his eyes that almost made a shiver go up Gabriel's spine.

Not but a second later, there was a quick few knocks at the door. He hated to admit it, but he startled slightly, eyes snapping to the door as Dean began to push up from the floor. Looking at his bodyguard revealed a tenseness to his muscles as he moved and set the beer on the coffee table. He reached up and into the back waist of his pants and pulled out his custom Colt .45. Clicking off the safety and holding it in both hands, he stepped quickly and silently on socked feet, toward the door.

As he stopped to the right side of the door, pressing against the wall, he called out a, "Yeah?"

There was a beat of silence and then it was Crowley's voice drifting through the thick wood back to them. "You order delivery, and then can't be bothered to open the door when it comes? Honestly...I'd have thought Moose would've trained his pet humans better."

Dean bristled and whipped open the door, aiming his weapon at whomever he saw there. "I'm nobody's fucking pet!" he snarled.

There was silence for a moment, then a put-upon sigh. "Really? Must we do this? I much think Sam would like to eat rather than deal with a Mexican standoff," Crowley huffed.

Dean's shoulders tensed and he was evidently warring with himself.

Gabriel groaned and shuffled forward. "Can't we all just get along?" he chimed in as he neared.

Dean just grew more tense as Gabriel came closer.

"...Look, Sunshine. Your brother needs to eat. Drop it already and let them in. ...As your boss, that's an order, not a suggestion," Gabriel spoke with a bright smile.

Dean scowled at him then, lowering his gun and stepping back.

Crowley walked in immediately, four people in tow. Two of them had the other two in chains, and the ones in chains had gags on them. Their eyes were darting about madly; they apparently knew what was about to happen, and Gabriel determined that he'd keep his filter firmly in place.

He also determined that he didn't want his little brother seeing this. However, in turning a concerned frown on Cassie, he was vaguely surprised to see his brother watch with a clinical sort of interest as Crowley stepped closer to the living room, all the thugs in tow.

"My, Moose...look what you've gone and had done to you. I do so want to know what could've brought you low like this," the skeazeball of a man spoke aloud.

Sam leveled a flat look at him, then rolled his eyes.

Crowley let out a faint huff of humor, then looked at the chained thugs for a moment. When he turned back to Sam, he was all business. "While you're doing me a service here, I still had to bring these bumbling idiots to you. Furthermore, given that it's keeping you from losing consciousness and attacking any random person nearby, I think it actually leverages the debt to my favor. And so, I'd say these two put me about a quarter of the way in repaying my debt to you," he spoke airily.

There was a flicker of a frown on Sam's lips at that, but he seemed to brush it all off, turning his eyes toward the closest man in chains. He stared for a second, then seemed to remember there were others in the room. When he made to move and look in Gabriel's direction, his body went taut under an apparent wave of fresh pain.

It had Crowley frowning and stepping closer, peering down into Sam's openly wounded neck. "Hmm...I daresay, it looks like your C3 and C4 vertebrae may have been damaged. ...Two might not be enough. But it should manage the surface healing just fine, and you'll be able to go hunting," he spoke, as though talking of the weather.

Sam slumped back into the sofa, staring dully at the ceiling.

Gabriel shifted from foot to foot, glancing about.

Dean was just standing near the edge of the living room, gun held loosely in one hand.

Cassie remained somewhat behind Gabriel, still seated and sipping on his tea.

The four thugs were near Sam's legs beside the sofa, with Crowley taking up a stand near his head.

"Oh, for fuck's sake!" Gabriel snapped. He slammed his glass down on an end table, some of the liquid sloshing out of it in sprinkles, and stormed forward. He grabbed the nearest man that was in chains by the elbow and yanked him forward bodily, pushing Crowley out of the way. Crowley blinked, but looked humored overall as he watched Gabriel.

It took some shoving and maneuvering, and the man certainly wasn't bending to Gabriel's will easily, but Gabriel was spry and wiry. He could bodily manipulate a person surprisingly well, and he soon had the man's jugular positioned over Sam's mouth.

The man jolted under his hands, but Gabriel held tight, waiting for Sam to have the strength to hold him in place before he let go.

The man didn't make a sound, not a single utterance.

Crowley was staring in surprise, when Gabriel looked up.

Dean had turned his back to the whole thing, and Cassie had looked away at some point as well.

Since he wasn't sure why Crowley looked surprised, Gabriel narrowed his eyes at him in question.

"...Sam usually doesn't allow his meals the luxury of not feeling the life draining from them. ...But I suppose you lot are more squeamish than myself, so perhaps that is why," he mused aloud.

Bare minutes later and Sam was surging up, gripping tight onto the man forcibly bent over him. Gabriel took that as his cue and stepped back, staring a bit. He wasn't sure what to think or feel. Supposedly these weren't good people...but did they really deserve to be killed? ...But then that would mean Sam either dying or losing his mind and hurting someone that definitely didn't deserve it, from what Gabriel had gathered.

...And Sam? Sam didn't deserve death. And he didn't deserve the guilt of hurting someone innocent. At least...that was Gabriel's opinion. After all, he had no clue what would've happened if the vampire hadn't been there when Abbadon turned on them.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam drank deeply, a sense of relief sweeping through him. He had an iron will, and whether other vampires he encountered just lacked that or didn't care to try, he wasn't certain. ...But even his willpower had its limits, and he'd been nearing it, desperate for something to replace the precious life energy he'd lost. Desperate for the restorative power and energies that blood would give him to heal his body with.

And Crowley had just stood there over him, looming and bearing an air of pompousness that had Sam sorely wishing he at least had words with which to knock him down a peg or two.

And then Gabriel had cussed loudly, out of the blue, and was manhandling one of Sam's...meals.

Sam was surprised at the strength Gabriel was showing; the man he wrangled was at least half a foot, if not a full foot, taller than the golden-haired man with his whiskey-caramel eyes. The marketing big-shot quickly had Sam's meal pressed down above him, an Sam allowed his fangs to extend, two extra incisors each from his bottom gums and from his top. He paused for just a second, recalling that he had a way to numb this for his victim; usually he didn't do that. His victims deserved the agony of feeling their lives being pulled from them.

But he wouldn't do that to Dean, or Castiel...and definitely not Gabriel, whom Sam was starting to trust for some odd reason.

So he sank his teeth in, venom already flowing into the wound, and started to drink deeply.

The blood flowed into him, and with it, the spark of life he had been bordering on losing. It took a few gulps before his body started to work with the potent energy and magics involved with this, and he began to heal. Within minutes, there was a great lessening of pain and he could feel that his body was stitching his throat back together. He surged upward, grabbing onto the human above him forcibly. The man had barely struggled, much less than Sam was used to anyway, but Sam kept a firm hold on him anyway.

A good few minutes passed as he continued to drink, and he felt the man going slack and practically falling onto him. Sam didn't much care, didn't care as he felt the man's life starting to ebb away and flow fully into the vampire.

When the man was practically dry, Sam dropped him to the side, moving swiftly to stand. He wasn't fully aware of how fast he was moving, just that he was hungry, and there was another life just there waiting for him to drain it away.

The second man flinched back when Sam was suddenly in front of him and let out a wild, desperate noise behind his gag. His heart was pumping like mad and it spurred Sam on. He grabbed onto the man and held him in an unbreakable grip as he yanked his head to the side and sank his teeth in.

There was some noise, aside from the muffled whimpers of the man beneath his fangs.

When Sam finally withdrew from the now-dead body before him, there was a disturbed looking man standing on the other side. He eyed Sam warily as he alleviated him of the burdensome body, carrying it away.

Dean was still standing at the edge of the living room, staring to the side and out past the dining room, jaw set in a tight line. Sam wiped at his mouth, but he was never a messy eater; there was hardly any trace of blood on his face at all. Turning a bit revealed Castiel sitting and staring at the wall beside him, with only the tightness around his eyes speaking to his discomfort.

Crowley had taken up a spot on the loveseat, meeting Sam's eyes with mild amusement dancing in his own.

Gabriel was staring at the sofa Sam had been stretched out on, frowning at the blood stain where Sam had been bleeding onto it.

Sam wasn't sure what that frown was about, but he was guessing Gabriel didn't like that he was going to have to replace that couch. Sure, he could try and clean it, but Sam had leaked enough blood into the cushions that it would eventually turn rancid and smell up the whole of the house.

Sam's eyes darted back to Crowley, deciding not to ponder on Gabriel's thoughts; he wasn't sure that was a road he wanted to go down.

"You're sticking around?" he spoke, eyebrow raised and his voice a rough grate of its normal pitch.

Crowley smirked and gave a shrug. "Just for a bit, my darling Samuel. I figured your pets might want a bit of an explanation. After all, your throat was well and mangled...there wasn't much of an esophagus for that blood to traverse, so I'm sure they're wondering just how it is that you managed to feed and heal from all that mess," he quipped. "And, given that you're barely healed at all, I decided to put myself in the hot seat and save your pretty little voice from strain."

Crowley was such an oddball. Sam honestly didn't have the slightest clue if the man was ultimately friend or foe. In all, he had decided that Crowley was just someone who owed him a debt, and left it at that.

"Fine, you explain. I'm getting a shower. ...Dean, I'm stealing one of your shirt," he spoke, turning and brushing past his brother.

Dean didn't say a word as Sam went.

Despite the fact that he went off for a shower, Sam could hear every last word being said, even as the water started up. ...It wasn't like he was eavesdropping, really...he just...wasn't dialing back his hearing, that was all.

"Soooo," Gabriel's voice drawled, after the water had started. "What is this, a Vamps 101?"

"Essentially," Crowley's voice replied dryly. "There are things you all need know, should you continue to be around that Moosey vampire. ...Should he decide to stick around anyway. He's been on the move for years now, I don't imagine he's actually--"

"Fuck you," Dean snarled lowly. "He thought he didn't have a place to stay, but he does, dammit! So shut the fuck up about shit you don't know!"

"You'd be surprised just how much I know, Dean," Crowley drew out slowly. "A good bit more than your man, Singer, actually. See, Robert lumps all vampires into one category, and doesn't realize that all those different inhuman things they can do are actually specializations of subspecies of vampire," he said, going back to the subject at hand.

It had Sam relaxing quite a bit; Crowley knew things that Sam had never told him, and the vampire wouldn't be surprised if he knew plenty of things about Sam's family, too.

There was silence stretching for a long moment, and Gabriel spoke up again, following the watery clink of ice in a glass. "So what specifically should we know in relation to Sammy, then?" he queried.

"Well, for beginners, it's not so much blood that he requires as it is life energy. As such, he needs his blood directly from the source...which means that there's no point in trying to raid a blood bank, or storing blood for him in the event of an emergency," Crowley explained.

"I don't understand. If such is the case, is there no way for him to obtain life energy? No way that involves the death of others?" Castiel's voice came.

Crowley was quiet for a moment, and Sam sighed under the spray of the water. The man was hesitating, but Sam knew he'd reveal it anyway.

And he did, bare seconds later. "There is. And for a couple of years, that was how Sam took on the life force needed to sustain himself."

"Why did he stop?" Dean's voice came, heavy with suspicion, and tinted with only the barest trace of concern.

"Because the method with which to draw on the life force of others in a way that does not endanger the ones the output end of things is utterly toxic. Not just to body, but to mind. By the time I convinced him to put a kibosh on the method, he was practically a skeleton, and was talking to things that weren't there."

There was a beat of silence, and then Dean was speaking up again. "Okay, so what if he were to, to uh...like hyper-mile it? Go stretches doing it that way and just taking blood to offset the bad stuff every once and again?"

"You're a buffoon. What that Moose sees in you, I'll never know. He can't do that, Squirrel. Let me explain; he lasted just over two years doing that method. According to my research, any of his particular subspecies to attempt before hand didn't manage more than five months before snapping under the strain. When they did, when they attempted to feed directly from human blood again, they pulled an Edith."

"...Okay, I'll bite. Who the fuck is Edith?" Dean snarked.

"You may know her as Lot's wife. She was never officially named in the bible, but the Jewish refer to her by that name. ...Or Ado, but I prefer Edith myself," Crowley drawled.

"So...so, wait, you're telling me that if Sammy tries to switch back to this...ice diet or whatever, he'll wind up a pillar of salt?" his big brother's voice came, full of disbelieving.

"Hm, he can be taught. Yes, that's exactly it. In addition, each time he tries to switch back to the...'ice diet' method, the progression of the toxicity will worsen, until he tries it just the once and immediately becomes a table condiment."

Gabriel redirected the topic at that point. "Okay, so he needs blood to get life energy. ...I'm guessing the blood gives him the energy as soon as it enters his body, then? But then, what happened to the blood while he was still on the mend a bit ago, when his throat was still...open and exposed to the world?"

"His body absorbed it. It doesn't need to reach the esophagus or stomach or anything like that. As soon as its in his mouth, his body will react and sweep it to where its needed most. Yes, there are some subspecies of vampire that literally need the blood in their stomach before they can do anything with it, but Sam is fortunate to not be that. His body is largely a magical conduit, as it were."

"Now we're getting into magic? I'm...I'm not following this. Is this biological or magical in nature, then?" Castiel spoke in a grave, confused tone.

"Yes," Crowley chirped simply.

There was silence for a long few moments, and it was Castiel speaking up again. "What you've said, what you've alluded to...you're positing that Sam is unusual in many regards? That he has...higher tolerances?"

"Mm, that would be accurate. I've thought about attempting to test his limits--" here, Sam shut off the shower, now well and clean, "...but I daresay, I don't believe he likes the idea of such," he finished.

They all fell silent at that, and if Sam had to guess, they were waiting on him to return to the living room following his now-ended shower.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *mystical finger waving* MaaagggiIIIiiiicccc~~~
> 
> Also, sorry, this is (so far) the shortest chapter I've written in this story, buuuuuut...much was explained that will come in useful in the future, I do believe~~


	6. Chapter 6

Gabriel strongly suspected, with the timing of Sam's ending shower, that he'd heard every last bit of their conversation. He moved and took a seat in the sofa chair that mirror Cassie's, taking a few deep gulps of his Bailey's that was beginning to become watered down from the ice in it. ...He didn't mind that, not really. The drink was good all the way around.

Dean remained standing near the edge of the living room, staring with narrowed eyes at Crowley.

Gabriel didn't need to drop his filters to know that Dean held no small amount of contempt for the man that had so readily answered their questions about Sam's state of being. As if he was trying to blame the answers he clearly didn't like on the man.

It was a long silent beat of a minute later before Sam appeared, back in his own clothes, save a shirt that he'd clearly snagged from Dean-o's room. He walked to the front wall of the house, where the living room began, and leaned against it casually. ...Decidedly a good few feet from his older brother.

He had heard, then. And he didn't like his brother's desperate line of questioning, for whatever odd reason. Without listening in, or outright asking, Gabriel wouldn't know why.

"So. ...Demons," the vampire prompted, voice still a far cry from what it should be.

"Mmm, is that the nasty sort that put you in that state? I suppose that's the woman's body I had my people haul out of here, too. Well...like there are many subspecies of vampire, there's plenty of classes of demons. Did you happen to get a name?" Crowley spoke, tilting his head.

"I hired her, as my brother's bodyguard. The name she gave was Abbadon Sands," Gabriel supplied.

Crowley's eyes widened a fraction, then narrowed just the slightest bit, his gaze scrutinizing first Gabriel, then turning on to Cassie. It took all Gabriel had not to snap at the man over that.

Sam didn't have any such qualms, apparently. "Well?" he clipped in his hoarse voice. "What class was she, what are we dealing with here?" his tone still erring on the side of peevishness.

Crowley turned a slit-eyed glare on Sam for a moment, then huffed. "Abbadon is high-level. That you lot managed to somehow subdue her is nothing short of a miracle. I wonder if something took her down a peg, for humans and a half-gone vampire to be able to manage that..." he spoke aloud.

"Humans. All I did was provide a distraction...a poor one at that," Sam spoke, eyes now on the bloodied sofa.

Dean, arms crossed, tightened the grip he had on his own biceps. "Like hell, Sammy. Who knows what sort of shit-storm woulda went down if you hadn't been here," he spoke in a low tone.

Sam didn't so much as glance at him in acknowledgement, but he did address the statement all the same. "What went down was, as it is, a result of my presence. What sort of long-game or end goal she had in mind, I can't pretend to know. But when she saw me, recognized what I was? She decided that it was time to act on it. Things would've been fine for a while longer, at least, if I hadn't been here."

"A while, maybe," Gabriel cut in, before Dean could speak up again. "But, Sampire--" and here, there was a faint twitch of Sam's lips. Gabriel counted that as a victory. "--she obviously did have some sort of goal. I don't imagine a demon places herself close to humans for no reason. And if you hadn't been here, we may have been completely blindsided and suffered for it."

Sam, gaze moving to the floor before himself, frown a bit and gave a short nod.

"Touching. Truly. But it does beg the question...what was she doing around humans?"

"Well, our family does own a--"

"Yes, yes, money, blah blah," Crowley huffed with a great roll of his eyes. "Squirrel, a glass of scotch if you would?" he spoke dismissively. Dean opened his mouth to protest, but it was Sam that turned from the living room and moved to get the requested alcohol. Crowley's eyes narrowed a bit at that, but then he turned his gaze back to Gabriel. "Yes, demons are creatures of greed, vice, and what-have-you. But one of Abbadon's caliber has no need, no want for such things. She wants power and souls. So what is it that brought her to you, to your brother?" the man spoke, eyes darting to Cassie again.

"I'm over here, you leave him alone," Gabriel snarled lowly. The venom of his voice startled Cassie and Dean both into a faint jumping motion, but they otherwise stayed quiet.

Crowley turned his eyes back onto Gabriel, humor lit in their depths. "Protective, are we?"

"You telling me you don't have family you care about?" Gabriel challenged.

"He does," Sam's voice interrupted as he returned, walking over to Crowley and extending a glass with faintly caramel-colored liquid in it.

Crowley shot him a displeased twist of his lips, but gave a nod of thanks all the same as he took the proffered drink.

"How do you think I came to be in the Moose's debt?" he spoke with a faint hint of disgust to his voice.

Sam didn't back away just yet. Instead, he spoke so quietly with his still-damaged voice that Gabriel couldn't make out what he asked. "He's well, Sam. Still stubborn as a mule, of course. Thinks he's invincible, despite what happened," Crowley huffed in reply.

With that, Sam gave a short nod, then took back up his post against the wall at the living room's edge.

Crowley took a drink of the scotch, brows raising as he looked at it. Gabriel had a feeling Sam had gotten into the good stuff that Gabriel had hidden in the depths of his liquor cabinet. Ah, well. He wasn't one to fuss over it, even if he'd preferred to have been asked first.

The man then looked back at Gabriel. "You're hardly providing the information I've been prompting you for, so I'll ask you directly. _What is it about you and your family that would stand out to demons?_ "

Dean went rigid for a second, and then he was reaching behind his back. But before his arm was fully behind him, Sam was there and gripping it, a dangerous look in his eyes as he stared down his startled older brother. Dean met his gaze, looking entirely bewildered.

Sam gave a flick of his eyes that was near to an eye-roll, then slid his gaze to Crowley, scowling at the man. "Do we need to have the discussion about respecting the privacy and boundaries of others again?" he clipped out. If it weren't for the clear threat in his tone, you'd have thought he was speaking to a child.

As it was, Crowley brushed off the tone as he rolled his eyes. "No, Dad," he exaggerated with a huff. "But I daresay, if you'd like more information or even some speculation on my part, it would be wise to provide me with as much information as possible," he added airily.

Sam's scowl hardened, and Gabriel was certain it was in danger of becoming a permanent expression.

But he sat back and said nothing. It was bad enough that two others had come to know his most closely guarded secret today. He was not about to expose it to anyone else. Not today, and likely, not ever.

The silence carried on for far too long. Finally, Sam released Dean's arm and turned fully to Crowley. "I'll walk you out," he said plainly.

Crowley eyed Sam for a moment, then the scotch still in his hand. It seemed he regretted not getting a chance to savor it, but he shot it back anyway, apparently not one to waste it either. He set the glass down on the end table beside him, then stood and adjusted his suit jacket, stepping forward and heading for the door, Sam following after him once he walked past the vampire.

The door shut behind Crowley, and they all waited as they heard car doors closing and an engine start.

"What a fucking asshole!" Dean snapped out then.

"He grows on you. Like mold, but..." Sam spoke hoarsely, walking back to the living room and shrugging. His eyes went to the sofa again. "...I'll take that out to the curb, and then I'll be gone for a bit. I need more than I got," he said, voice almost disturbingly quiet.

Dean let out a strained noise. "You said daylight--"

"I'll be fine. It's just an irritation, and once I'm downtown, there's plenty of shadows to hunt in and from," the vampire was saying as he lifted the couch easily. Gabriel imagined it wasn't heavy for him in the slightest...just a bit bulky.

"Thanks for taking it out, Sammich," he ventured, watching as he moved toward the door. Dean was bare steps ahead of his brother and the piece of furniture, getting the door open for him.

Sam's gaze met Gabriel's for a bare second, a twitch of a smile on his lips, before his eyes moved to Dean. "...Clean up all that blood in the dining room before it congeals, please? I probably won't be back for a few hours, or I'd do it."

"Yeah, I got it, Sammy," Dean spoke, his shoulders suddenly losing a line of tension that Gabriel hadn't even noticed.

"Brother," Cassie's voice practically whispered. Gabriel turned his gaze over to him, hearing the front door shut after Sam had maneuvered his ruined sofa outside. "...Gabriel, I have something I need to tell you," his little brother continued in the same low volume.

Dean was already moving to work on cleaning up the blood, but all the same, Gabriel stood, nodding back toward one of his guest bedrooms.

Cassie stood as well, but he shook his head. "...I believe perhaps I shouldn't tell you, but show you, as I find even myself having difficulty believing it," he said.

"Well, that's a completely innocuous statement," Gabriel spoke, but as Castiel headed for the dining room, Gabriel followed.

When he stood near to the large spill of blood that Sam had lost, Gabriel stepped up beside him, staring down at it for a moment, before looking up at his taller younger brother.

But Cassie didn't meet his gaze. He was waiting.

Dean came out from the kitchen mere minutes later, with a mop, rags, sponges, and a bucket of sudsy water. The bodyguard looked at them, but when his eyes met Cassie's, he halted.

Cassie stared for a moment, then sighed softly, maintaining eye contact as he spoke. "Draw a smiley face in the blood."

Gabriel blinked and frowned, looking back and forth, and then openly staring as Dean set everything in his hands down and moved to the blood, doing exactly as he had been bid. When he stood back up from where he'd bent to do the task, he frowned in confusion as he stared at it.

"Dean," Cassie spoke. When Dean's gaze returned to his, the confusion vanished as they locked eyes again. "Do as Sam asked of you. Do not notice the smiley face, and forget I even spoke to you just now."

Wordlessly, Dean moved and began to work.

With that, Cassie stepped back, then moved past the dining room, heading for Gabriel's study. After a beat of staring, Gabriel quickly moved to follow, shutting the pocket doors of the room behind him. He stayed still for a moment, then turned to where his little brother stood beside the chair on the opposite side of the desk from where Gabriel usually sat.

"Okay. Okay, so...how long's that been going on?" he asked, doing his best to contain his internal freak-out.

Cassie didn't look up at him, instead staring at the floor by the chair, shoulders tense as though he was expecting yelling and scolding.

"I am uncertain. I discovered this...aberration of mine about two months ago. If it existed prior, I have no knowledge of it."

Gabriel was quiet for a long moment. His little brother had a curse of his own. That made two of them in their family now. ...How far did this go? Did anyone else have anything? Their father, Anna? ...Dear comatose Lucien? Insane, crazed Michael? ...Oh, that would be a nightmare if he did, especially if it was anything like what Cassie had.

"The demons know," Gabriel suddenly breathed out, shocked. "They know...something. What and how, I don't know, but...fuck, Cassie. What do we do?" Gabriel said softly, backing into the doors behind him and sliding down to his ass, knees bent up in front of him as he draped his arms over them.

It was quiet for a long time. Minutes, perhaps even an hour or so. But then Cassie was standing barely a foot in front of him, drawing his gaze. When Gabriel looked up, his little brother had a hand extended. "We have Dean. And I believe Sam will also be inclined to help us through this, brother. We are not alone, and whatever happens, we will face it, all of us."

Gabriel blinked, slowly reaching up and taking his brother's hand. With a small amount of help, he pushed up from the floor to stand and nodded slowly, frowning a bit as he considered...several things.

The first of which was Castiel. To begin with, "I'm transferring Dean's contract to you. I trust him, and he'll watch out for you. I'll figure something out for myself in a little while. Probably have to interview people again. That'll be fun," he said with a faint frown.

Cassie had a small frown as well, but to his credit, he didn't argue. Gabriel looked up at him and gave a faint smile at the worry he saw there. "Aw, baby bro...I'm not mad at you. I didn't tell you about my little freakishness until, what? Fifteen years ago, was it? I'm not going to fault you two months against my eighteen or nineteen years of secrecy," he said.

Castiel's shoulder slumped suddenly, and he shuffled forward until they were practically chest-to-chest, dropping his forehead on his older brother's shoulder. "Thank you, Gabriel," he mumbled.

Gabriel reached up, running his fingers soothingly through his hair. "Of course, little bird."

"You are forever going to hold that attempt at flying against me, aren't you? I was nine, Gabriel," the taller man huffed petulantly.

Gabriel chuckled warmly. "...To make it clear, Cassie...this doesn't change us. You're still my brother. I still love you," he said quietly.

Cassie's arms came up and he hugged Gabriel tight, a strained, pitiful noise coming out of his throat. Gabriel simply hugged him back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you waiting on My Name Is Human; there will be a chapter for that one either later tonight or tomorrow. Work was a bit busy today, and while I did start a chapter there, there is much yet to write on it.
> 
> Much as I'm loathe to give up my sleepy weekends, if I can't get a chapter up on MYIH tonight, I will make every effort to get it up tomorrow. Bad enough that I was far too busy with beginning-of-the-month work on Monday and Tuesday that I couldn't post a single thing, I'm definitely not going to short change you guys on my weekday updates as much as I possibly can.
> 
> That being said, I'm also going to be making an effort to update my extremely old fic Out Of The Woods this weekend, too. Just one chapter, but I have a vague idea of what to write for that one. I'm not promising an update, especially since I do so enjoy sleeping most of the weekend away, but like I said, I'll be making an effort.
> 
> I do so hope you all enjoy~~!


	7. Chapter 7

The problem with hunting as Sam did...or rather, the problem with the way Sam was selective with his food source, is that people usually wound up hurt before he could intervene. Yes, he could read intention and body language, but until it was acted on, he didn't feel that it was right to step in, to eat, to kill someone that may have a change of conscience before inflicting any harm.

He didn't like it, but it wasn't like there was another way, really. As it was, he often worried over eating thieves. He didn't know their circumstances. They could have kids at home and no other way to feed them or something.

Pickings that day were slim, and it wasn't until night fell that he'd have any real luck. And so it was, the moon was high in the sky, and Sam was prowling still.

One of his favorite areas to lurk was between two half-decent strip clubs in the downtown area. See, there were plenty of sex workers roaming the streets there, looking to make their money off men that were a bit riled up from the clubs. But sex work wasn't the safest profession. There were men that just wouldn't take a _no_ , a _stop_ , as the call for cessation that it was. Being drunk wasn't an excuse for it, either. If you were drunk enough to be ignoring someone's bodily rights, then by all that was good in the world, you should also be so drunk that you couldn't get it up or would be passing out.

Such was Sam's view on things.

He'd been hunting these particular streets, this given area, often and thoroughly enough that the sex workers knew he was there. Well...knew someone was there. They didn't know that he wasn't human, that he killed the assholes that got carried away.

When he stood up on a roof, watching, listening, he heard them whisper about him on occasion, especially when someone was expressing concern over how the night was feeling to them. They called him Angel.

It made Sam sick, because he was the furthest thing from a being of light and love. Until today, he'd thought of himself as a demon, really. Except, now...apparently demons were a thing, were real, and...well, he supposed he was a step up from that, at least.

He tilted his head, turning slightly, as he heard a call for help. He didn't respond immediately to it, because...because some sick freaks sometimes liked to play at having a willing rape victim. The worker usually charged pretty heavily for that, from Sam's understanding, and he wasn't about to interfere if there wasn't any actual danger.

He focused, closing his eyes, hearing another yell for help...and a panicked heart beat.

The real thing, then. With that, he was moving.

Time to eat.

When Sam returned to Gabriel's home, it was a bit after two in the morning. He paused near the circle at the end of the drive way, in front of the house, looking up at the full moon. Typically, he'd spend all night in his favorite hunting spot. He didn't actually usually eat but every few days (despite Crowley insisting that he should really be eating every night), but he liked to be there to try and keep things safe.

But he'd told his brother he'd be back in a few hours, and that had been over half a day ago now.

He hoped abandoning his chosen post wouldn't result in anyone suffering for it. It wasn't like the assaults were a constant thing.

With a faint sigh, he looked back down at the house. It was dark, and quiet.

...Too quiet.

There was only one person inside. There was faint music playing, some pop-filled playlist at a low volume, and the shuffling of papers and huffs of aggravated breath. Gabriel, from the tones it carried. ...Where was Dean at this time of night?

Sam, frowning, walked forward and tried the door. ...Unlocked. That wasn't safe, not for someone worth...millions, billions? Sam wasn't real sure.

Letting himself in, he closed and locked the door behind him, walking toward the room still lit up, where the music and sounds of life were coming from. Stepping into the open doorway revealed a study. A nice one that was pretty tastefully decorated. Sitting at the large executive desk set near the large windows at the back of it, was Gabriel, frowning down at stacks of papers strewn across his desk.

Sam reached up and knocked at the side of the pocket door beside him. He'd done his best not to startle the human, but Gabriel jumped all the same, gaze snapping up as his heart beat sped up for a couple of moments.

"Oh. Uh...ah, fuck. Sorry, Samster, Dean-o's at Cassie's. You're still welcome to stay the night," he said with a wave of his hand as he returned to the papers before him.

Sam frowned. The night? He stepped forward. "So Dean's guarding Castiel until you replace Abbadon, then?" he asked, stopping beside one of the sofa chairs on his side of the desk.

"Mm, no. I'm switching his contract over to be Cassie's bodyguard. Few reasons for that. But now I've gotta comb through all these old applications again and see if I can find anyone half decent to assume his position, and if they're still available. Anyway, I'll give you Cassie's address in the morning, and you can swing by there, see if he's willing to let you stay there with them."

Sam stepped forward until he was directly in front of the desk. He frowned a bit.

"Gordon's no good," he said, tapping one of the applications. "Someone offers him enough, he'll turn on you in a heartbeat. He's done it before, but managed to get the charges dismissed when he was caught. Cole...is alright, I guess, but something about him always threw me. ...Dean trusts him, though, so you might wanna give him an interview at least." He moved a paper and froze. "...Get rid of Ruby's application," he spoke in a flat tone.

"Sammy?"

"You can ask Dean, but she was in his unit when he was overseas. She claims she was under orders, working a lead, but she got half the unit killed ultimately, and...even...I just, I never could manage to fully believe what she said," Sam spoke, pulling his hand away from the paper.

Gabriel was quiet, and Sam looked up at him. The human's eyes were curious, and Sam wondered if he was listening in on his thoughts. Instead of asking if he was, he instead spoke, "I imagine that listening in on people's inner workings isn't comfortable, but...you insinuated before that you do it more often now than you have in the past. What changed?"

There was tension in Gabriel, and a flash of pain in his expression. After a moment, he sighed and shrugged. "Might as well tell you...I mean, you could dig it up in the media reports, but they don't really cover everything, don't have all the details. I, uh...I got kidnapped about a year and a half ago. If, before that, I'd even dropped my filters just once a day and listened in, I would've known. I was dating this woman, a real spitfire, named Kali. She drew me in, got under my skin, in a matter of months. I felt like...this was it, she was it. ...The day I proposed to her was the same day a group of dickwads got the drop on me. When I came to and realized I was tied up, and she was there and free of binds, I...made a damned fool of myself," he spoke with a humorless chuckle. "Told her to run, to get out of there, before they came back. She laughed in my face. Started monologuing, basically.... But they weren't as meticulous as they thought, because a beat cop had seen me get nabbed, and SWAT busted in the door before I got any real particulars."

Sam watched him. Gabriel's gaze had gone to the papers in front of him as he'd spoken. He was staring at them blankly, and...Sam didn't like it. He'd barely been around this man, but had seen him plenty of times when he'd been checking in on Dean, since Dean had been hired to guard him. He was almost always smiling and laughing, quipping some joke that drew a laugh from his big brother as well.

He didn't deserve to have his heart stomped on like that.

He didn't deserve to have his life endangered like that, to have his existence devalued for fucking money.

Sam looked down at the applications and frowned. ...He was seriously considering this. And that was enough to let him know that he was going to do it. He brought his gaze back to the human before him.

"Do you think you could trust me, Gabriel?" he asked suddenly.

It snapped him out of it, and those wonderful liquid honey orbs came up to meet his own eyes. There was puzzlement there, and consideration. After a bare minute, Gabriel gave a short nod. "Yeah, I reckon I could come to trust you. Why are you asking, Sampire?"

Sam huffed out an amused breath. He liked that nickname. It was funny, and it fit. "Hire me, Gabriel," he spoke in request.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo...this weekend didn't go as planned.
> 
> Nor did yesterday.
> 
> And now I've written a 1500 word chapter.
> 
> It's too short.
> 
> But my work day is ending and I have a business call to make, and grocery shopping to do after work, and like HELL I'm going to go home and fight with my slow ass laptop to tack on more to this chapter.
> 
> Besides, I think the content and ending on this chapter are pretty decent.
> 
> Enjoy, lovies!


	8. Chapter 8

It took very little to put Sam into position as his bodyguard. And Gabriel quickly came to find the same ease with Sam that he'd developed with Dean.

They'd only had one real issue, and it had been barely four days later.

Gabriel had gone to meet with his father to give him an update on a massive project with one of their long-time clients that he'd been placed in charge of. Gabriel had sauntered into the gigantic office with a large display rolled up and tucked beneath an arm, and his arms otherwise laden with smaller signs, also rolled up neatly.

"Yo, Daddy-o! Rainbow, how's tricks?" he greeted as he headed for one of the tables Chuck kept in the office for just this sort of work.

"Good morning, Gabriel," his father responded, standing and moving to look over what his VP had for him. Gabriel hadn't even thought about Sam and John's familial relationship...if one could even call it that. And, of course, thought nothing of his bodyguard trailing along beside him until his father's confused voice piped up, "Did you replace Dean?"

Gabriel, working on spreading things out, froze. Ah, shit. "Uh--"

"Dean's guarding Castiel," Sam's voice intoned with a smiling lilt to it. "Sam Wesson, sir. It's nice to meet you," he heard, turning in time to see his new bodyguard shaking hands with his father.

John was still by his father's desk, and there was a look of pure hatred on his features. Gabriel frowned, but quickly dismissed the man, looking to his father. "Turns out Abby really was a merc. I know I joked about it, but...well, she got a better offer, apparently," he lied.

"I happened to be close by when that mess went down. I know Dean from the service...we're practically brothers, and after I helped out with the situation, Gabriel decided to trust Castiel's welfare to Dean. And, at Dean's suggestion, Gabriel took me on to fill his old position," Sam spoke smoothly.

Chuck's eyes quickly locked onto Gabriel. "Cassie's okay? You?" he spoke in a low, urgent tone.

Gabriel smiled warmly and gave a short nod.

"You can't be serious," John's voice scoffed.

All three of them turned to look at his father's bodyguard.

"...John?" Chuck questioned confusedly.

"It's alright, Mr. Novak. John's just got a problem with homosexuals," Sam spoke in a cool, level tone as he stared down his father. "But he can remain professional, I'm sure."

At John's eye twitch that came with the word "homosexuals," Gabriel decided to egg the man on and gave a low whistle. "Damn, Rainbow. Surprised you ever so much as shook my hand. But I mean, it could be worse. I mean, it's not like you'd try to kill someone that couldn't help what they were, right?" he said with a grin that he'd been told was very much shark-like.

John's gaze snapped to him, eyes wide. And now, he knew that Gabriel was fully aware of the situation with Sam. That Sam was his son, that Sam wasn't human, and that John had attempted to kill him for it.

Chuck was frowning in his own bodyguard's direction. After a moment, he looked at Gabriel, and Gabriel quickly put on his best neutrally innocent expression, turning back to his work-ups for the project and drawing his father into that vein of conversation.

Having Sam around was pretty damned wonderful, really. It certainly made things easier on the employees within the building.

At first, Gabriel had been uneasy and disconcerted when his bodyguard would randomly vanish on him. But then things started cropping up from the human resources team.

Some of their higher ups, as well as a couple of general office workers, had been abusing their positions and power in the company, and evidence was appearing on the desks of a specific member of the human resources team.

Why Sam was singling out all of this information to go to Charlie Bradbury, Gabriel couldn't guess. He thought about asking, but Sam didn't bring up any of what he had been undertaking to him, so Gabriel didn't say anything either.

Summer came, and with it, a slew of interns.

And Gabriel noticed Sam vanishing with more frequency while they were at the office.

He wasn't sure what was going on, but he knew that if something went wrong, Sam would be there. He trusted in that. Had seen enough of Sam's preternatural abilities and senses to know that his bodyguard would be at his side before he could blink if something was off.

But as days of this increased frequency of disappearances stretched into weeks, Gabriel noticed that something was off.

Sam hid his emotions well, but something about him was frustrated and despondent.

So, on a Thursday afternoon, when Sam returned to Gabriel's office, the human decided to speak up. "What's going on, Sampire?" he asked as the door clicked shut behind his bodyguard.

That Sam's lips didn't so much as twitch as they usually did with the nickname had the VP worried.

"There's a girl," Sam began with a heavy sigh. "Came on board with the summer interns. She's real sick, Gabe. I've done everything I can to try and nudge her to see a doctor, and I help her out so she doesn't unwittingly strain herself, but...nothing's getting through," he admitted, leaning back against the wall beside the door heavily. He huffed out a tired breath.

Gabriel frowned in concern. "...What's her name?"

"Hael Phipps," Sam answered softly. "She's young, and real smart...but not when it comes to health things. I've tried to point out that her lack of appetite isn't healthy, but she thinks she's just not hungry because she works so much and skips meals, and her stomach must be shrinking because of that, but--"

"That isn't the case?" he asked curiously.

Sam shook his head. "I can smell it, Gabe. And...her heart's starting to become strained. I can hear the...the murmur developing. If this continues...if the disease she's got doesn't get her first, the arrhythmia she'll develop will," he said, tone pained.

Gabriel frowned in thought, then a light bulb went off and he smirked. "Alright, Samster. No worries, I got this one," he said, pulling up his email.

By the end of the following week, the whole of the company, at every location across the globe, was treated to in-office medical examinations, interns included. Just on the edge of invasive enough that they'd pick up on little Hael's health being off, and prompt her to actually look into it.

By the end of the week following that, Sam was clearly more at ease.

Cassie, Dean, Sam, and himself, got together every four days. Usually they'd meet at a bar, diner, or restaurant. Sam would stick around for half an hour to interact with his brother and Cassie, and then he'd slip off once comfortable that Dean had things in hand.

Those nights usually wound up being late for the three humans.

This particular night, though, Gabriel was intent on getting sloshed. Not only did he have a bad anniversary coming up, but there was a new client, a big one, that he'd been assigned. He was having a lot of issues with them, too. In his opinion, he'd come up with some pretty great ideas, but they were blowing off each and every one.

And, of course, the hits didn't stop there, not tonight.

Even with both Dean and his little brother trying to help him fend off people looking for a quick lay, there was a lithe blonde woman with long wavy hair practically crawling onto his lap, getting between him, the bar, and most importantly, his fifth tequila shot.

"Lady, he said no!" Dean snapped loudly. Gabriel was pretty sure they were gaining some attention.

"And who are you? His boyfriend?" she sneered, then turned back to where Gabriel was trying to shove her away. "C'mon now, sugar, don't be like that. I'll make it worth your--"

There was a scuffle of noise, and her overly perfumed self was suddenly gone.

"Ow! What the fuck, asshole, let go!" she was screeching, but Gabriel didn't bother to look, finally free to toss back his next shot.

"Shit," he heard Dean exclaiming lowly.

"Is he going to--" from Cassie before Dean cut in.

"I have no idea," Dean spoke in a whisper Gabriel barely heard.

He finally decided to turn and see just what was going on.

The blonde was being dragged, her heels trying to dig into the floor to pull away, by Sam freaking Winchester.

He looked angrier than Gabriel had ever seen him. His eyes dropped to his crotch. ...Well, that was an interesting reaction. He hummed and turned back to the bar. "Don't be stupid, Cassie, Sunshine. He's not going to kill someone getting a little handsy," he spoke idly, signaling the bartender for another shot. "And uh...he can hear you guys, you know. I mean, if he can hear a subordinate two floors down and across the building pleading with her supervisor against sexual harassment, then uh...he can definitely hear what you're saying now. Have some damned faith in him, would ya?" he said.

He heard Dean let out a low curse. Cassie was quiet for a long moment before, "He's the one that's been exposing all those things to HR?" came from him with awe.

"Yep," Gabriel spoke. His speech was too slurred for him to really pop the p on the word, like he usually would, but he didn't much care.

It was a bare minute later before Sam was back over at his side, blonde long gone. "That's your last shot, Gabriel," he ordered. "Any more than that, and we're going to wind up with your stomach getting pumped," he added.

Gabriel huffed out a long-suffering sigh. "No fun, kiddo. It'd give me an excuse outta work tomorrow, ya know."

"Just because the Kilbourne Project is a total shit-show, doesn't mean you should poison yourself to avoid it."

Gabriel glowered up at his otherworldly bodyguard. "Ya know, Sampire, you can be a real pain in the ass."

Sam grinned at him. "Careful, Gabriel," he spoke in a lilting, teasing tone. "If you annoy me, I'm not making you a hangover breakfast."

Gabriel's brows raised at that. Sam had taken to making breakfast over the past few months, and despite not being able to eat human food, he was a damned good cook. Huffing, Gabriel sunk into his seat, pouting at the wall of liquor behind the bar.

"Dude...dude, you tamed the midget!" Dean exclaimed.

"Brother, are you quite well?" Cassie spoke with a bare tinge of worry that was nearly overshadowed by teasing in his voice.

Gabriel shot them both flat stares.

Sam's resulting laugh echoed in his ears for hours.

When it happened, it was a late night at the office, which had become a norm with the newest project.

They had finally agreed on a broad idea that Gabriel had come up with, and he was now working to narrow down the details, fine tune the individual components.

Sam was sitting in the corner chair of the office with a Tolkien book, and Gabriel's usual pop playlist was playing softly through the office. Loud enough to be heard, but not loud enough to break his concentration.

But abruptly, his entire focus was stolen by Sam.

Mirrors had come on, and it seemed that his favorite vampire (nevermind that he had never met another and had no want to) had no issue with enjoying JT at his finest.

In fact...his voice was filling the room right alongside the pop singer's, at a volume that managed not to override the quiet of the atmosphere. And it was every bit as melodious as the celebrity's that was singing the song.

Gabriel found that he actually preferred Sam's voice.

As he stared, watching the bodyguard turn a page, idly singing along, Gabriel felt his heart stutter. Shit!

He quickly looked down so that Sam wouldn't catch him staring, and it seemed that he'd done so just in time, because Sam's singing halted immediately. In the next second, he was across the table from Gabriel.

"Gabe? What's wrong?" he asked, tone filled with worry.

Daring to look up and act like everything was fine, despite the fact that his heart rate was trying to spike, he saw that Sam was looking him over with a confused frown.

"Ah, uh...n-nothing, Sam, just uh..." he started, then shook his head, deciding to go with a half-truth in the hopes of throwing Sam off the trail. Because it really was a half-truth. "I had some random intrusive thoughts. Of the sexy narrative. Which, ya know, hardly surprising since uh...I've had a five-month dry spell at this point. Guess my body thinks I need to amend that," he quipped with a self-deprecating laugh.

Sam halted, staring for a long couple of minutes, then nodded. "No, no, yeah, uh...so uh..." he started, then looked down at everything spread over the table. "...There's still a couple of hours before bars start closing, and you don't have to report anything more on this for another three days. Call it a night, yeah? I'll stick to the background while you pick someone up, and make sure you get home fine before I leave you to it. Sound good?" he asked, looking back up to meet Gabriel's gaze.

Gabriel let out a hum, trying to calm his heart...and the sick feeling twisting in his gut. "Sounds like a plan, kiddo!" he chirped as cheerfully as he could manage. He headed for the iPod and switched it off before making sure he had his basics; keys, wallet, and phone. With a nod to Sam, they headed out of the office, Gabriel locking it up behind himself.

Gabriel had never felt physically ill after sex before.

But then, Gabriel had never betrayed his own emotions like that before.

It was almost two weeks later when Sam left Gabriel with Cassie and Dean for one of his hunting excursions.

He was always back at least half an hour before the bar would close.

So when he, Cassie, and Dean were still standing outside the bar an hour after it'd closed, Dean starting to fuss about where the hell his brother could be, Gabriel knew something was direly wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun...dun...DUNNNNNN
> 
> Also, no chapters on any fics on Friday. Got some stuff at work I direly need to catch up on. Sorry ><


	9. Chapter 9

_Nearly Nine Years Earlier...._

Sam fought the urge to move, to open his eyes, to let out the groan of pain that attempted to escape his chest and throat.

What was going on? Was this another one of Dad's random surprise training exercises? ...Chloroform had never made him feel like this before.

He had definitely been drugged, he was sure of that. He hadn't moved, had carefully kept himself slack, and his breathing deep and even, as though he were still unconscious. All the same, he could feel a sluggishness in his muscles that he associated with being drugged into an unconscious state.

But...something was off. No, everything was. It was confusing, every last bit of it.

His body didn't feel right, beyond the apparent side effects of being drugged. His...his blood, his heart, it was weird. Wrong, off.

And then there was everything else.

His skin was hypersensitive. He could swear he was feeling dust falling onto it. His hearing was...going in and out or something. And the smells...all those smells.

Something nearby smelled...coppery. Like blood. Blood and something else, something he'd never encountered. Something he could only think of as _life_. But blood had never made his mouth water before, and if he could smell life...well, wouldn't that be like smelling grass or flowers or something? That wasn't what he was smelling right now.

There were also other smells. Smells that didn't draw his attention like the first one. Smells of rot and dirt and disease.

There was a car horn that nearly made him jump, sounding like it was right next to his ear, but quickly fading as if being yanked away by an unseen force.

It was time to open his eyes and figure out what the ever-loving fuck was going on.

Darkness greeted him as his lids opened. There wasn't a single beam of light in this giant space he was working to observe. But he could see things fine. Not color, of course. In the dark, there was no discerning color. But shape and definition he could make out very well. Too well. What the fuck was happening? What was going on with him??

His eyes scanned what he could see immediately, and then he slowly began to move his head, doing his best not to alert anyone that he was awake.

But when he finally took in the whole of the room, with its broken crates on one side, chains hanging far above from the distant ceiling, and thoroughly boarded windows, he noticed only one small figure crumpled and still, save for the motions of breathing, between him and the door.

Sam sat and rolled forward, swiftly getting his knees under him and starting to crawl across the floor, eyes darting around the space.

That amazing, mouth-watering smell was getting closer as he went, and he didn't like that. Not a bit.

He neared enough that he could make out the features of the resting figure. A child, a young girl.

...Definitely not his father's doing. Something was seriously wrong here.

Sam needed some answers. It was risky, an untrained civilian, and a child at that...but he had to wake her and see if she knew anything.

Reaching out, he gently gripped her shoulder and gave a small, firm shake. "Hey. Hey, I need you to wake up," he whispered softly.

"Nn..nn...mama?" came a small voice. He could make out the eyelids fluttering, and then they snapped open wide and she was starting to draw back.

"Hey, hey, it's alright, okay? I'm going to get you out of here. My name's Sam. Sam Winchester. Can you tell me your name?" he spoke, quickly and as soothingly as he could.

The girl still whimpered, but she didn't pull away. She did start pushing herself up into a sitting position, though. "Candi...uh, Candice Green. ...s'dark," she murmured, head turning every which way. "I...I can't see you."

"That's okay. I see you...I see the door, and we'll try it in a minute. But Candi, I need to know what you know. ...Do you know how we got here? Why we're here?" he asked gently.

With a whimper, she shook her head. "I...I stayed at Lyssa's late," she murmured. "It was dark. ...Mama said to be home before dark. I want my mama," she spoke. The sharp tang of salt spilled into Sam's senses and he grimaced, knowing she was crying.

"I'll get you home. It's okay, I'll get you home," Sam said, drawing his hand away finally. He pushed himself to stand, eyeing the door for a second, then leaned down, gently catching Candi's hand. "C'mon, up," he prodded verbally, helping her to her feet.

His skin was still doing that sensitive thing. He could swear that he was feeling her blood rushing under her skin.

His mouth started watering again and he frowned at that. What the fuck?

He had barely taken a step forward when the door suddenly opened. He froze immediately, staring at the figure standing in the now-open doorway.

Three short tsk'ing noises sounded into the room.

It had the little girl whimpering and pressing into his side. "Sam?" she questioned. He gave her hand a brief squeeze in response, but didn't so much as look down at her.

Everything in him was telling him this man blocking their path was a threat, a danger.

"Sammy-boy...what are you doing? Don't you know it's impolite to play with your food? And I left you such a sweet first meal, too," the man spoke in a purring croon.

Sam didn't want to understand. But some part of him did. It was crazy, insane, and completely impossible. But somehow, he knew, he understood...he wasn't human anymore. It made sense, he knew it made sense.

All the same, he tried to reject the knowledge. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about, but I do know that if you don't get out of our way, you're going to regret it," he snapped in a low, dangerous tone.

The man chuckled. It was warm, like they were friends and Sam had just told a funny anecdote.

Sam saw him move, but he didn't react. He couldn't, and would one day realize that he hadn't yet had the reflexes with his new state of being to react with.

The girl jerked at his side, but was quiet otherwise, save her panicked breaths.

The blood-life smell poured into the room and Sam tensed.

He was hungry.

When Sam snapped out of it, there was blood down the front of his shirt and dripping down his mouth and chin.

Candice Green was cold and limp in his arms as he pulled his face away from her small neck. Even in the dark of the room, he could tell that her throat was nearly torn out.

Dread swept through him, swiftly followed by sickening horror.

Fingers stroked through his hair, and he yanked away, clutching the small body to his chest like he could still protect the precious life that it no longer contained.

"There, there, Sammy. You did well, for your first drink. You'll develop some finesse in time," the voice began. Sam looked down at the small girl again. Her face was slack. She looked like she might be sleeping, if only for the look on her face. He crouched back down and slowly laid her out on the floor, trying not to cry over what he'd done.

"Who are you?" he spoke, voice not even as he'd like, but tone icy all the same.

"My name is Azazel. I would be your maker...your new Daddy, if you will," he spoke with that purring croon of his.

It made Sam sick.

Rising back to his feet, he turned toward the man, the inhuman thing before him. The thing that had made him a monster, that had manipulated him into hurting, killing, an innocent little girl.

How Azazel didn't know that Sam would attack him, Sam couldn't guess. When he thought about it later, he was sure that the creature had had his eye on him for a while, should've known Sam wasn't about to go with him quietly and easily.

But Sam had caught him off-guard, and wounded him with a punch to the stomach that had been strong enough to actually penetrate skin and organ. It had shocked Sam still, and the wounded monster had managed to escape.

When he finally snapped out of it, Sam had picked up the girl. He didn't know what to do with her. Certainly not leave her here. Who knew how long it'd be till she was discovered? ...But then, where did he leave her?

He would leave her somewhere. He wouldn't make her parents, the mama she had so desperately wanted to go home to, be without closure.

He picked a jogging trail in a park. It was still night, still dark, and he had a few hours before the sun rose.

He took the time to build a bed of branches, to keep her from being just unceremoniously dumped on the ground. As he worked, her body was set up against the side of a tree in a sitting position.

When he finished, he laid her gingerly on the wooden altar.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her, gritting his teeth and holding back tears.

As the sun rose...as it hit his skin for the first time since everything had gone to shit, he winced at the stinging discomfort. But that's all it was. Discomfort.

He'd honestly been hoping for a burning, fiery death. He deserved that...and worse.

With a last glance at the body of the poor girl that had fed him with her life, Sam headed for the only place he could think to go.

Home.

When he closed the front door, he heard his brother call out from the kitchen. "Walk of shame, Sammy?" he crowed, with a tinge of pride in his voice.

  
"No," he spoke, probably too quietly for his brother to hear, as Sam stilled in the entryway to the house.

Now what? What was he supposed to do now? ...He shouldn't be here. He was...he wasn't human. He was a danger.

Gods, what if...what if Dean...what if he hurt his big brother? What if he killed him? His breath hitched as a wave of panic swept over him.

"Sam??" he heard, and his gaze snapped up to see Dean. He was staring at him, staring...staring at all the blood. Looking Sam over.

' _He thinks I've been hurt. Oh, gods, I wish it was mine_.'

"S'not mine," he muttered, eyes drifting toward the wall.

"...The fuck happened, Sammy? Were you attacked? Whose blood--"

Dean was reaching toward him, and Sam shoved himself back, slamming bodily into the closed front door behind him.

" _Don't touch me!_ " he yelled out.

Dean froze before him, hand still between them, staring with mounting confusion. "Sam--"

"I'm a fucking monster, Dean. He fucking...gods, what do I do?" he spoke aloud, feeling a tear spill down his cheek. He grit his teeth, trying to keep anymore from falling.

"Boys?" their father's voice came.

Dean paused, then turned his head to the side, calling over his shoulder. "Dad, something's wrong with Sam!"

Through his tear-blurred sight, Sam saw their father come into view from the living room area, where he'd likely just made it down the stairs leading into that room.

There was silence for a long moment.

"Whose blood is that, boy?" his father intoned. His voice was flat, tinged with unease.

"I didn't want to. I didn't mean...he made me. I wasn't...he made me," Sam blabbered.

There was a strained sound from Dean, and his brother took a step closer.

Sam tried to press further away, the door behind him creaking with the pressure he put on it.

It didn't help that...he could hear a heart pounding too quickly. Hear blood being forced to rush faster through arteries, veins, and capillaries. That was Dean, right in front of him, and Sam's mouth, his gums, were aching under those sounds.

He tried to focus on the slower, more steady pulsing he heard from beyond Dean, from their father. It wasn't as maddening.

"What have you done, Sam?" the elder Winchester spoke, tone bordering on ice.

Sam's vision had cleared a bit. Enough to see Dean casting a confused frown over his shoulder before refocusing on his little brother before him.

"I killed her. She...she was...a little girl, I didn't...fuck, I was so hungry," he confessed.

Dean went completely still, staring.

Their father moved out of the entry way.

There was a cracking clatter from the kitchen/dining room, and then his Dad was back, striding toward him, pushing Dean to the side.

Sam stared at the splintering leg of wood that his father brought up. Part of him panicked. Part of him was relieved.

"Dad, no!" Dean yelled.

Far too late, because it was already piercing his chest. Sam was pretty positive it'd definitely punctured his heart as he stared down at it, still as he waited for...something. Something or nothing, anything to indicate that he was dead.

All there was, was pain blossoming through him. Building and cresting. Not enough of it for him to cry out; he'd had worse than this under his father's training. But it didn't end, it didn't stop...and he was still alive. Or what counted as alive for him now, anyway.

He reached up and pulled it out, twitching slightly as his heart tried to resume its rhythms.

Breathing, after that, hurt, but he didn't care as he slid down the door, pulling his knees to his chest and holding them as he buried his face against his arms.

He lost awareness for a while, unsure of what his father or Dean did in that time.

When he snapped out of it, it was to the feel of a hand on his right bicep. He flinched bodily away, head snapping up, to see Dean sitting there, frowning in worry. "Come on, Sammy. You uh...you need to get cleaned up at least, right?" he tried.

Sam looked down slowly, pulling away from his knees and legs to see his shirt.

The hole in his chest had healed. Why? He frowned at it, wondering how this all worked.

But he redirected his focus, forcing his attention to what Dean had suggested.

He wasn't sure he deserved not to wear the evidence of his horrific crime...but there was nothing to be done about it. It had happened. He'd done what he could after. Now he had to set himself to rights and figure out what to do next, where to go from here.

So he pushed himself up, stilling as his brother quickly clambered to his feet beside him, then slipped around him, carefully avoiding contact, and headed for his room to gather some clean clothes.

Once in the shower, with the water sluicing away the dried or drying blood, Sam started to think, to put his head in order.

Whatever he was now (vampire, Sam, duh, what else fucking drinks down blood like this??), he wasn't going to go suicidal. Yes, he had for a good few hours there, but...he wasn't someone that was going to cave to the looming depression attempting to sweep him under so easily.

Which meant, he had to live...had to find a way to live.

He was already hungry as it was. And not just in the vague, _I need a snack_ way. In the way of, _if I don't eat something soon my stomach might try to eat itself_ way.

He had a feeling that had to do with the healing his body had undertaken while he wasn't fully aware of time and surroundings when he'd checked out in front of the front door.

He started working on scrubbing his hair and his body, working to get himself as thoroughly clean as he was able, and let his mind consider what to do.

It was pretty obvious in the end. If he had to drink blood, if he had to kill...go after criminals. Go after the dredges of society and potentially do some good by cleaning up the streets in that manner.

Decided, he turned off the shower and climbed out, his eyes fluttering shut at the feel of the clean clothes sliding over his skin as he dressed. It was an immense relief.

He sighed as he picked up his dirty clothes. He stared at them before shoving them as far down into the bathroom trash can as he could.

He was not surprised, when he opened the bathroom door, to see his father staring down at him with hatred and disgust written across his face.

"Get out of my house, you perverse creature," he hissed.

Sam wasn't actually hurt by the words. After the attempt on his life, he didn't think that he could be hurt by his father any further. Instead, he raised an eyebrow. "I thought we were past the name calling, John," he spoke coolly. "And honestly, do you have no creativity at all? Pretty sure you said the exact same thing when I told you I was gay," he added. He eyed his seething sperm donor, then decided he wanted to go get something to 'eat,' and so, he reached up, shoving at the human's shoulder.

John flew back into the wall across the hall and Sam paused, staring. ...Oops. After a second, he shrugged, then headed off down the hallway and walked on down the stairs, heading for the front door.

"Sammy...?" Dean's voice came as he passed the living room.

...Dean. Dean, ever his big brother, had not rejected him after everything that had gone on so far. So Sam paused and turned, trying to fight down the nauseating fear that that might change.

Dean rounded the corner of the living room, into the entry way. "You, uh...leaving?" he asked, looking upset and uncomfortable.

Sam looked at the wall beside himself with a faint frown. "I...I'm hungry, Dean," he forced out quietly.

"Okay, so how ab..." Dean started, then halted. "...I take it you don't mean food?" he spoke after a couple of seconds.

Sam couldn't help the wry, broken facsimile of a laugh that wrenched itself free of his chest at the question. "No. No, not food. Not as...not as humans see it, anyway," he muttered.

Dean let out a short wounded noise that he coughed to try and cover up. "Right. Well, I'm going with you. Wait, can you even go in the sun?"

"You're not going with me, and I can go in the sun," Sam said firmly.

"Sam, you're my brother, and I'm going to have your back. Besides...I want to know what the fuck happened to...to get us here," Dean argued.

After a moment, Sam huffed a sigh and nodded. Dean followed him out the door.

He had Dean drive to the downtown area and park, and they took to walking. The sun was still uncomfortable on his skin, and his senses kept shifting on him. Sharp one second and dull the next. It was all making him terribly twitchy.

When Dean had to repeat a question because of his ever-changing hearing for the fourth time, his brother snapped out a, "What the hell man? Are you trying to ignore me or something?"

"No. Everything...gods, Dean, I don't know what I'm doing, but everything keeps changing on me," he explained, pausing at the edge of a building, a bank, and leaning against the wall there. "One minute, I have hearing that is probably better than a dog's, and the next, it's like everything is muffled. Smell is driving me insane, especially because I'm so _freaking hungry_ ," he growled. "Don't get me started on touch. And my eyes...my eyes fucking hurt," he huffed.

"Okay. Okay, sorry, jus--" Dean began, but then he was drowned out by a grunt sounding almost right in Sam's ear.

There was the sound of someone crying, though it was muffled, and panting breaths.

Sam felt sick to his stomach, pretty sure he knew exactly what he was hearing. Without thought, he pushed from the wall and started walking, determined not to lose the trail. He felt Dean try and grab his shoulder, but he kept going without so much as a falter in his step.

He heard every grunt and slandering word that was being thrown at the person who was being struck every time they tried to fight. At one point, he heard a faint crack and he tried to speed up without leaving his brother in the dust.

Hidden deep in an alley, in the middle of the day, a man was raping a nearly unconscious woman.

After stepping into the mouth of the alley, Sam no longer held himself back and moved forward as fast as he could. As he did, he felt his gums ache and something more in his mouth. In the next instant, he had the poor excuse for a man, for a human, pinned against the wall of the alley, hovering a good five to six inches off the ground.

He finally relaxed his focus on his hearing, and he nearly dropped his 'meal,' at the influx of sound.

Dean was cursing up a storm, moving toward the woman that was letting out pained whimpers behind him. There was a scent of blood coming off her, her heart beat was erratic, and Sam was pretty sure that crack he'd heard earlier was a skull fracture.

The man before him as clawing at his hand and arm, trying to gasp in air. Sam was tempted to just snap his neck, but something in him said that if he did, he wouldn't get the sustenance he needed from him.

Breathing out a slow breath to try and ease his rage, he turned his head a bit. "Get her out of here. I think she's got a head injury," he ordered his brother.

Dean paused, glancing up at his back, then back down at the woman. He moved, carefully pulling her jeans back up her legs, shushing her gently when she whimpered all the more with the action. Dean then lifted her carefully into his arms and started off, but then paused a few steps later. "...You better come home later, Sammy," he said.

By the time Dean was out of the alley, the rapist had lost consciousness. Sam didn't think he deserved the relief of death while unconscious. He deserved to know every second of what was happening to him as he died. But Sam didn't need him screaming and drawing people to them.

His tongue ran over his teeth, his gums still a bit sore, and found two sets of incisors extending over his upper and lower human set. These sets were sharper and nearly cut his tongue as he felt over them. He lowered the man before him down and stepped forward, nose wrinkling in disgust at being that close to this man's exposed dick. He adjusted his hold to keep the man upright, then leaned forward.

Finding the jugular was pretty instinctual. Biting down and letting the blood flow into his mouth was second nature.

His body received the blood-life food readily, and Sam allowed out a soft murmur against the dying human's skin, expressing a faint relief at the ease of his hunger pains.

When he dropped the body, he stood still for a moment, assessing how he felt.

Better, for one. Almost more in his skin than he had been. But he felt weird, too. There...there wasn't a single ache in him. He had never really realized he'd had aches, as a human. But as this now, as a vampire...he could look back and see that his right forearm had always ached, since he'd broken it falling out of a treehouse when he was seven. His right knee and ankle had always had a small hitch of pain, likely from a sparring session in his teenage years. A few other things that he wound up disregarding when a throat clearing interrupted his thoughts.

He snapped his head up, turning toward the entrance to the alley.

A man in a suit stood there, a smirk on his lips. He strode forward and Sam's eyes glanced down at the body, then back up at the man approaching.

Shit. Fuck!

What did he do? What was he supposed to do? _It's not what it looks like_? Yeah, that would go over well.

But the new man didn't so much as glance at the dead body. He maintained a smirk on his lips, halting a bare foot in front of Sam. He pulled one hand from his pocket and held out a...a business card. Sam blinked and numbly took it.

Once it was in his hand, the man grinned in an almost evil manner, then turned and walked away.

All of this, without a single word.

Sam looked down at the thick, textured business card. It was off-white, almost a cream color, and had burgundy metallic lettering inlaid on it. Crowley MacLeod, it read in the center, and then below that, a phone number. That was it. No other information as to just who the fuck that man had been.

Sam pocketed the card, looked at the dead body beside him, then moved and walked from the alley, swiping at his lower face to make sure there wasn't any blood there.

As Dean ate dinner that evening, Sam told him everything about what had happened to him the previous night. About leaving the library at close and considering going for a beer and a salad at one of his favorite bars that served actual food.

He didn't know anything beyond reaching the corner of Main and Elm. Not until he woke.

He told Dean all of it. Slowly, Dean had stopped eating. When Sam finished, he dumped the remains of his food in the trash and went to the fridge, pulling out a couple of beers. He twisted off the caps and discarded them, handing one to Sam.

Sam took it, nose wrinkling as he raised it to his mouth. He drank, a good few swallows, watching as his brother chugged over half of his own before pulling away from the bottle to gasp in some air.

"Fuck, shit, Sam. That's...really fucked up," he spoke.

Sam's jaw clenched and he quickly avoided Dean's gaze.

There was a pause, and then Dean was speaking quickly. "No, no, Sammy. You're not fucked up, I...you didn't do it on purpose, I know you didn't. I mean...what happened, what that shithead did to you, the whole fucking situation...that's fucked up," he clarified.

Sam eased slightly, then frowned, brow furrowing.

Something was wrong.

A sweat suddenly broke across his forehead, and his stomach lurched, giving a sharp pain with it. He grunted, doubling over his stomach and lap.

"Sam?" Dean's voice came, footsteps drawing near. He felt his brother's hand on his shoulder, and his stomach gave another painful jolt, wrenching a quiet cry out of him. "Fuck, Sammy, what's wrong? What's happening?"

Sam gulped in a deep pull of air, trying to force his body to normalcy...whatever that was now.

It wasn't having it.

With the next spike of pain, the beer bottle still in his hand shattered under his grip.

...The beer. Fuck, he couldn't have anything other than blood, could he?

"Shit," he groaned aloud.

"You can't drink," Dean realized aloud.

Sam tilted his head enough to see his brother eyeing the hand that now had glass shards embedded in it, blood and the remnants of beer leaking to the floor.

"Guess not," Sam croaked quietly, gritting his teeth to withhold a yell at the next spasm.

His stomach lurched again and he barely could gasp in air before he was vomiting beer and bile onto the floor before him. It didn't feel like how the vomiting process usually went, either. He very much felt like his stomach and a few other organs were trying to follow along.

But, once it was up and out, the pain quickly began fading.

He panted in relief as his body cooled back to normal, and the pain slipped and ebbed away.

When he sat back in the chair, Dean eyed him carefully, then seemed to relax as he realized that it'd passed. "Alright. Alright, little brother, let's get your hand taken care of, and then you can help me clean up this mess."

Sam gave his brother the 'puppy eyes' that always seemed to do him in. "I was sick, Dean, do I really--"

"Fine! ...Fine, I'll clean it up. Stay here, I'll get the kit," he huffed.

Dean came back a bare minute later and used tweezers to pull every last bit of glass from Sam's hand.

He didn't have to bandage it, though. As soon as the last bit was out, his skin was smooth, unbroken, and as unmarred as it had been before the beer incident.

Seeing that, that his hand wouldn't be at risk for more bleeding while he worked, Sam opted to help Dean clean up the mess he'd made after all.

Sam stuck to the house, for the most part. Until he got too hungry again, until he was sure his stomach would revolt if he didn't get something in it soon.

He came home the following morning, and Dean's car was gone from the driveway. Odd, he thought, but he dismissed it, walking in.

As he passed the living room, he halted.

His father stood there. He had barely been seen since telling Sam to get out, but he stood there now, between sofa and coffee table, with his phone in his hand.

Once he saw that he had Sam's attention, he unlocked the phone and tapped something.

Dean's voice filled the room.

"You didn't see what I saw! Fuck, Dad, just--would you listen?! He's a bloodsucker, alright?! And after all he's done...after what he's done, he deserves to die! Now are you going to help me, or what?"

Sam stared as his father tapped his phone again. Slowly, his gaze moved up from the device, to meet his father's face.

The man was smirking at him.

Sam turned and left the house, his home. His family, his life.

He was on his own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: No chapter tomorrow!
> 
> And, as an additional reminder, it is presently exceedingly rare for me to post chapters on the weekend.
> 
> So...see y'all Monday!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GORE! There's a semi-graphic gory (non-sexual) scene here. Nothing super descriptive...but it is gross, yes yes.
> 
> Ye have been warned.

A sharp blow to his left cheek snapped Sam awake. Immediately, his fangs descended and he snapped his gaze around, snarling as he tried to assess the situation and his surroundings.

His arms were suspended above his head, manacles around his wrists that were far too tight to bother trying to dislocate a thumb and slip, welded together with a chain barely managing to fit between and extending high up into the dark rafters above. His feet were barely flat on the floor. In front of him, his father. Behind his father, standing back a good few feet, Azazel and a blonde woman that stunk similar to how Abbadon had.

All of them looked amused.

Sam clenched his jaw and forcibly retracted his fangs.

"Well...how about that? You see this guy, right?" Sam spoke, looking from his father to Azazel and the woman, smirking. "Hates his own son so much, he'd work with a vampire and a demon to get rid of 'im."

At the word demon, John startled slightly, then glanced back. Azazel and the woman still looked highly amused, and the woman's gaze went to his father, a grin slipping over her features. "Oh, come now, Johnny-boy. Not going to get high and mighty on us now, are you?" she asked, the whole of her eyes rolling back and turning milky white as she blinked at him.

His father shuddered in apparent disgust, then looked back at Sam. He looked to be considering, then shrugged. "Whatever gets rid of this stain," he spoke flatly.

Sam didn't bother reacting to it. He didn't really feel anything more at his father's insults. He'd had almost nine years to distance himself from what he felt for the man.

...All the same, when he suddenly realized all the implications of the situation at hand, a fresh wave of pain swept over him. "Oh, Dad," he spoke softly, sighing as he hung his head.

There was a beat of quiet before he picked up his father's heart beat starting to slowly accelerate with his apparent growing trepidation.

"So smart, Sammy. I knew I picked you for a reason," Azazel's voice came, before he heard his father grunt. "Aren't you hungry, Sammy? I made sure to grab you before you got a bite in last night. How about a taste, hm?"

Sam raised his head, ignoring his father where the vampire had his head yanked back by the hair with one hand and was somehow holding him immobile with the other, turning an angry glare on his maker. "Fuck off, Azazel. I don't know what you want, but I'm not going to be what you're trying to make me," he snarled lowly.

Azazel chuckled darkly. "Oh, but you already are, Sammy! Don't you remember the sweet taste of little Candice? Just as sweet as her nickname...mm!"

Sam couldn't help yanking at his chain and baring his teeth at that. "I didn't know what the fuck I was doing. You forced my damned instincts!" he roared out.

"Mm, tow-mate-oh, ta-maat-oh, Sammy-boy! ...I do say, I have been watching since, and all this pitiful feeding on criminals thing...so passé. So...beneath you. I've finally decided to show you just what you could really do, if you open yourself up to it. All you have to do is follow my lead. And to start us off...I think it only fitting you take out the one person who hates you more than any other. I'll even make it easy on you, Sam--" he pressed. John's heart rate was on par with a frightened rabbit's, and he was futilely struggling, cursing, and snapping out threats. He was also being largely ignored, as though he were a child and the adults were discussing something over his head. "I'll open him up, so you can just sink on back into those instincts. Whaddya say?"

Sam stared flatly. Internally, he was raging. He was so fucking angry. ...But there was nothing he could do. Even if he had the leverage to snap apart the manacles binding him, they were welded together so tightly, and they were so thick, there was just no hope for it. And the thick chain was secured pretty well, to wherever they were mounted above him. There was nothing he could do.

But he wouldn't drain his father, wouldn't willingly drink from him. Even if his father hated him, even if he was an asshole...he wasn't evil. Not in Sam's mind. And he didn't deserve death.

When Sam turned his gaze to his father, John froze, staring back in disbelief at whatever he saw in Sam's expression. "...I'm sorry it's come to this. I wish you hadn't thrown your lot in with them. I'm sorry...I can't help you," he spoke quietly.

There was a brief flicker of something over his father's face. Something that almost looked like heartbreak.

Sam didn't get a chance to explore it, because Azazel took Sam's words as the refusal they were, and he moved his hands, one on his father's shoulder, the other up under his jaw, and _ripped_.

Sam shut his eyes against the image seared into his brain, swallowing reflexively to keep from vomiting at his father's head being forcibly torn from his body.

For the first time in nine years, the scent of blood was completely unappealing.

\---

Dean had taken him home, and the next morning, picked him up to take him in to the office.

Gabriel hadn't slept, and despite his best attempt, he looked like it. He was fully aware of the fact.

Cassie was sticking close to Gabriel today, apparently. Probably at Dean's behest. As it was, they'd almost stayed at his house last night, but Gabriel had pointed out that neither of them had a change of clothes there, and that Gabriel could easily arm his security system and defend himself long enough for the police to arrive if something went wrong.

Right now, Cassie had his work laptop on his lap and a folder of paperwork crowded beside him, sitting in the corner chair of the office as he worked quietly.

Gabriel was doing his best not to demand his little brother relocate to another chair. ...That was Sam's chair, as he'd come to think of it. It was where Sam sat during the late nights that Gabriel worked, reading silently as he waited on his charge to be done for the day.

Midmorning, his father knocked on the door twice before opening it and slipping inside, closing it behind him. He looked completely uneasy, and Gabriel rose to his feet with a worried frown. "Dad?" he asked, tone reflecting his concern, before his father could even speak.

"John...John's missing. He...he went out last night, but he apparently didn't come back," Chuck spoke, glancing from Cassie, to Dean standing at attention nearby, then over to Gabriel, before his eyes swept the room. "...Is Sam missing, too?"

"That sonuvabitch," Dean snarled out lowly, startling the company's owner enough to make him jump.

Gabriel closed his eyes, already guessing at Dean's train of thought. John had done something, and presently had Sam hidden away somewhere. Or worse.

Drawing in a deep breath that was somehow steady, he opened his eyes again. He turned his gaze on Dean. "Find them, Dean," he ordered, lifting his phone at the same time and punching in an extension. "Gabriel Shurley speaking. There's a situation with my family's personal security. I need two of the building's guards at my office, and two stationed at my father's office," he commanded into the phone. By the time he set the receiver down, Dean was exiting the office without protest, to go follow his instruction.

His father frowned worriedly and stayed until the security guards showed, then headed back to his own office.

When afternoon rolled around, Gabriel called Singer. He told him to have Anna pack a bag, and that for the foreseeable future, they would be accompanying his father outside company grounds. Singer didn't say a word of protest, nor did he ask any questions; Gabriel was pretty sure Dean had already reached out to him about the situation, given the man's steely tone that came with his easy agreement.

"Singer...there's a lot of shit coming at my family right now. ...And yours. I'm no idiot, I've seen the way Dean and Sam talk about you. You may not have raised them, but they care about you. That I'm asking you to take care of my sister and father, that I'm forcing you to stay out of it, is not lost on me. In my mind, tripling your current compensation for the additional work hardly covers it, but what can I say? I'm a pathetic rich kid. Our solution to anything is to throw money at it and hope it goes away. So...congrats on your pay raise, old man," he spoke.

The gruff, wisened bodyguard was quiet for a long moment, before huffing out a near-silent, "Balls," then, "I know you and Dean will do what you can to find Sam again. It's only thanks to you in the first place that I even had an opportunity to talk with him a couple of times over the past few months. ...And it's much appreciated that you're compensating my additional workload, as you put it, especially given the mitigating circumstances. But make no mistake, son...if it comes down to it, if I find I have to step in for my boys to be safe...I'll drop your family like a hot potato. Screw your money and any legal ramifications that follow."

"I understand. In the meantime...you have my appreciation," Gabriel spoke.

They hung up without another word.

Dean retrieved himself and Cassie roughly an hour later. They stopped at Cassie's for his little brother and the bodyguard to pack up bags. During that time, as Gabriel waited on them, Dean explained that he had found little. There was evidence of Sam in one of the downtown areas, and he was working on narrowing down exactly where his brother had disappeared from. He was also trying to find Crowley, hoping that whatever he owed Sam was enough to make the apparent crime lord in the city work with them to find the vampire.

Once packed, they returned to Gabriel's house for the night.

Within a week, the news reports were fussing over an uptick in the crime rate of the city.

After two, Crowley reached out to them, asking, "What the bloody hell is going on? I can't raise the Moose!"

"He disappeared on a feeding night two weeks ago. We narrowed his last known appearance to the alley entryway on Chestnut. Dean's been trying to find a way to get ahold of you," Gabriel muttered into the phone. He was exhausted, and even his best efforts hardly made him look presentable. He still worked, but he was delegating presentations to office workers for his projects, just so the clients wouldn't think him unprofessional with his unkempt appearance.

"Bollocks..." Crowley muttered. "Keep my number, shortstack. I'll be in touch, but if you find anything, do reach out," the man ordered, before hanging up.

Another two weeks, almost three, passed and Crowley showed up on his doorstop one evening.

Dean had imitated a wild pit bull for a few moments. Crowley looked on unamusedly. Surprisingly, the man seemed rather upset over Sam's disappearance as well. He was still well-put-together, but something about his just seemed off somehow.

Finally, he huffed. "If you're quite done? You have been working with me, Squirrel. You know I'm doing what I can," he pointed out, before turning to Gabriel and holding out a small metal trinket, not even the size of a dime. "Swallow this," he ordered.

Gabriel frowned, taking it with no small amount of suspicion. "What is it, and why?"

"Insurance," was the only reply he got.

He was tempted to lower his filters in that moment. Perhaps he should have.

Instead, he popped the metal thing in his mouth and swallowed, ignoring both Dean and Cassie's protests.

Sam had a vague bit of trust toward the lynch pin; Gabriel decided it was good enough for him.

Two months later, Crowley revealed some things that he suspected and had faint rumors of, but there was no discernable proof, and worse, no location for Sam.

"Apparently," he spoke, visiting Gabriel's house for the third time since Sam had entered the picture. "John Winchester decided the best way to get rid of his monster-son was to throw his lot in with Azazel."

Dean's posture went rigid, and he paled significantly.

Cassie reached up from where he sat on the sofa, Dean standing sentinel beside him, and took the bodyguard's hand. Well, that was new, but Gabriel was hardly in the mood to even try to address it.

"The rumor is, he's left the living. ...My condolences, Squirrel. Moving on, it gets worse."

"Of course it does," Gabriel muttered.

Crowley shot him a dry look that edged on amused, but didn't quite reach there. "Azazel's been working with demons, as of late. And I'm not talking the low class underlings. Rumor is, he's got the First on his side."

"...That sounds like first with a capital F. ...The actual first demon?" Gabriel spoke.

Crowley flashed him a sharp grin. "The one and the same. Lilith is her name. I'm working on figuring out what's going on there, but I'm having difficulty getting any actual intel. What I can tell you is that the demons have an interest in your family...specifically you and Thursday over there," he said with a vague gesture toward Cassie. "Azazel's got an unhealthy obsession with the Moose, to boot, and somehow is drawing demons in on it all."

"Oh, well, this is all fucking peachy!" Dean snapped out lowly, pretty much yanking from Cassie's hand and starting to pace in a short line near the open entry to the living room.

Gabriel watched him, frowning a bit. His father was dead, brother missing...and he was a human bodyguard. He was not without skill and physical power, but he wasn't a major player in all this. He could imagine that Dean was hurting over his loss, scared and worried shitless over his little brother, and probably trying to figure out how to protect Gabriel and Cassie against demons and vampires alike.

"...I would like to know what exactly it is about the two of you that has the demons so drawn in," Crowley spoke.

No one spoke.

Crowley left ten minutes later.

Gabriel didn't remember going to bed. When he woke, his head throbbing heavily with pain, he wondered if he had ever made it anywhere close to his room.

He knew he was in deep shit when he saw an emaciated Sam hanging limp and shuddering before him, a rotting body left at his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sincerest apologies, but I was majorly ill Monday and Tuesday.
> 
> Have 2400 words in apology.
> 
> And please don't hate me for the cliffhanger? I love you all <3


	11. Chapter 11

Sam had thought he was nose-blind at this point.

He couldn't really smell his father's rotting, decomposing body, where Azazel had left it.

Couldn't smell the long dried blood from the stab wounds he'd been inflicted with, to make his blood levels ever-lower.

Didn't smell Lilith when she came to taunt him. She liked to do that.

Last week, Abbadon had reappeared, in a new body, and she'd added a few new stab wounds. Those hadn't healed like the others had.

...In the last week, his fangs had descended as well, and no matter what he did, he couldn't get them to retract. He was pretty sure it was a base survival thing his body was enacting on...that it would be at the ready the second a viable food source came available.

Three hours ago, they'd dragged one in.

He didn't look up. Didn't need to. Because no, as it turns out, he was not nose-blind. He recognized the smell of the blood-life beneath the skin of the human left sprawled against the wall across from him. But worse...worse, he recognized the scent of that human, of that man.

He smelled so utterly divine, too. Never had Sam really thought much of Gabriel's soft neutral body wash, or his fruity citrus shampoo. Just enough to think the scents suited him well. But now, now with him so hungry, having starved for...how long? He wasn't sure, he lost track after the first month, after he'd denied consuming his own father.

Oh, but the smells that made up Gabriel, with that wonderful blood-life scent teasing from under the human's epidermis.

_No._

_No, I won't._

_I can't. I wont, I can't._

_So hun--I WON'T!_

_Not him...oh please. Please not him._

He was barely aware when Gabriel started to move, but he began to pay attention when his charge, his friend, the man he wanted to be closer to, let out a soft groan.

His entire body shuddered and started to tremble.

He was just so _hungry_.

There were shuffling noises, but Sam still didn't look up.

"...Oh, gods, Sam," Gabriel's voice finally came, soft and despondent.

_Don't. Don't be worried about me. I'm going to kill you. Gods, Gabe, he's going to come in here and he's going to offer you up, and I'm--_

"Hey, stop. We'll figure it out," Gabe spoke, voice closer. Sam had been too out of it to register that Gabriel had been moving forward, but hearing that he was closer now, he flinched back, the chains rattling loudly in the room.

Sam's mind filled with a constant chant of, ' _Nonononononono_.'

"Shhh. Come on, Sampire, that's enough. We're going to-to make it," Gabriel stuttered.

Sam finally lifted his head. Gabriel was stubbornly determined, by the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes.

' _You know that's a lie. I haven't eaten this whole time, Gabe_ ,' he thought weakly, leaning forward against the chains and not bothering to disguise the madness trying to consume him. ' _I'm going to kill you. I don't want to. I don't. Please don't come closer, please..._ '

Gabriel swallowed thickly, and Sam shut his eyes as Gabriel's pulse sped up. "Oh, fuck...fuck-fuck fuckity fuck-fuck," the human muttered. There was a pause and then a pained whimper. "Ah, shit...Crowley was right, there's a damned demon, fuck! ...Is that...is that Azazel?" he spoke aloud.

' _Azazel, Lilith, Abbadon_ ,' Sam supplied, trying to tune his hearing toward them. He wasn't making out what they were saying, but the women sounded pissed, and Azazel bored.

There was a stillness for a moment, and then Gabriel was speaking again. "Sam. Sam, it's okay," he said suddenly. Sam pried his eyes back open, looking at him confusedly. Gabriel had a desperate look on his face, but his eyes were filled with a grim acceptance. "It's okay. It is. I...you're my friend, Sam. You've become a friend, closer to me than even Dean, and it's okay. I know...I know that it'll help you, and I know that...that once you're well enough, you'll destroy them. I know it," he spoke, pausing.

' _You can't--_ '

"We have barely a minute, so just listen. You're going to drain me, Sam. You're going to kill me. Play it up as much as you can, but just do it, and know that I forgive you. ...And go along, for a while. Resist at first, I know you'll want to anyway, but get them complacent...and take them down, kill them, destroy them. ...That's my dying wish, Sammy. Avenge me and anyone else they set you loose on. Promise me?" he spoke, his voice dropping to a whisper.

Sam quieted the surface of his mind, letting undercurrents of thought run free.

There was no fighting his hunger at this point. Were he not chained, he'd have been on Gabriel the second he'd been dragged in.

Despite how he felt.

' _I'm so fucking selfish_.'

"No. No, S--"

'Listen to me. I need you to know.'

He could hear the footsteps entering the hall outside the door now. He didn't have time to lay it out.

' _I love you. And I'll do everything in my power to bring them down, and make them suffer along the way. I'm in love with you, Gabriel...I wish--_ '

"Ah, Sammy and the snack!" Azazel spoke as the door swung open.

Gabriel was staring at him with tears in his eyes, and Sam stared back for a moment before moving a dull-eyed glare onto his maker.

"Tut-tut now, Sammy! I brought you something extra-tasty, and I know you've got to be hungry enough to eat something by now!" the vampire crowed.

"Let him down," Gabriel spoke, voice quiet but firm.

The vampire, and the two displeased-looking demons behind him, stared at the human flatly.

Gabriel sighed heavily and looked over at them. "Look, I'm small. Short, and small. There's no way he's going to be able to eat from me like that. And even after he's done, I know enough to know he won't be strong enough to fight, to do anything, even after I'm drained and dead. So what's the point? Let 'im down, Az-hat," he snarked.

Azazel's whole face twitched as he snarled with a flash of fangs. Gabriel didn't so much as flinch, just raised an eyebrow.

Finally, the vampire huffed. "Shame, smart little livestock like you going to waste like this...but necessary," he muttered, striding over to Sam after grabbing a step stool from the side of the room.

Sam almost snorted at that. Almost. But in all, there was nothing comical about what was happening, what was about to happen.

' _Gabriel...Gabriel, run, do something, I can't. I can't, please_ ,' he pleaded, even as he kept his eyes on Azazel, as the vampire produced a key from his pocket, now standing on the step stool. ' _I know I promised, but I can't. Gods, Gabe, this is going to hurt, I don't know if I can--_ '

The key was pressed into the left manacle and twisted. Both cuffs fell away, and Sam crumpled to his knees.

Gabriel hadn't moved. Sam rose, eyeing him hungrily...and desperately. It was too late for Gabriel to run. If he did, it'd be worse.

The human seemed to know that, and was staring up calmly at Sam, despite his racing heart as the younger vampire stepped over his father's corpse and stalked toward him.

' _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry_ ,' he thought weakly.

He was in Gabriel's personal space now, and the human reached up with one hand, smiling at him forgivingly as that hand cupped Sam's cheek. Sam almost tried to bite into his wrist, but Gabriel had tilted his head to the side, exposing his neck widely in invitation. "Love you, Sam. ...Now eat me," he spoke, eyes pained, but a smirk on his lips and his tone filled with false bravado.

Sam's arms, pained and aching after so long being suspended above him, moved up and wrapped around Gabriel's waist, pulling him in close. This was wrong. They loved each other. They loved each other, and Sam could only barely manage to fight enough to keep from making it painful. He wasn't even fully aware of leaning down, but he tasted it the second Gabriel's blood hit his tongue. He sank to his knees, bringing the human down with him, whimpering in both relief and devastation. ' _Gods, someone, please! I don't want this!_ '

"Shhh," Gabriel murmured, fingers stroking through Sam's filthy hair.

As he drank, tears spilling from his eyes, he paused.

...What was that?

The relief he'd felt at the first taste of Gabriel's blood was suddenly nothing. Nothing under what swept him in the next instant. Life energy was filling him, near to the brim, near to bursting.

He stilled against Gabriel's neck in shock, no longer drinking his blood, but being fed all the same.

... _Crowley_.

He almost laughed. Crowley had done something. What, he wasn't sure, but he'd magicked Gabriel somehow, and now there was an impossible wealth of life energy filling him.

' _Gods, we're going to be okay_.'

Where Sam didn't laugh, Gabriel started to chuckle. The vibrations of his throat under Sam's lips was the best thing, and Sam worked his lips over the human's throat in soft kisses, licking the last of the blood away as the wound started to heal itself.

"What the fuck?" came Abbadon's angry voice.

Sam leaned back, looking at Gabriel with a warm smile.

Gabriel smiled back, radiating happiness for a moment, before it turned dark and vicious.

"Get 'em, Sammy," he prompted.

With that, Sam pushed up from the floor, his body back in prime shape.

When he turned to look at Azazel, he was mildly surprised and supremely pleased to see that the elder vampire looked terrified.

"Azazel?" Lilith's voice came, filled with heavy trepidation.

Sam's eyes darted to the demons. They were the bigger threat. They didn't have physical limitations. They had powers, abilities, that could reach out and hurt others. But as Sam knew, exorcising them wasn't enough. Abbadon's reappearance meant that exorcising was but a temporary measure.

They didn't smell appetizing in the least. Sure, he could smell blood from them, but not blood-life.

Still, he wondered if he could kill them by consuming them.

Lilith met his stare evenly. There was no tell in her.

But Abbadon, in the wake of Azazel's silence and the dark, considering gaze that Sam was casting at them...she backed up a step.

Sam was on her in the next instant, pushing past Lilith and pouncing her like a freaking velociraptor in Jurassic Park, shoving her back through the door and biting into her readily.

Oh, gods, that tasted awful.

But he drank, and deeply, ignoring as she tried to fight him off, both with powers and with her body.

He didn't hear a sound out of the room behind him, and was hoping that the shock of his actions would carry on for just a moment longer, just long enough to finish this.

Just as he drew in the last of Abbadon's blood, her fighting long having gone weak, her body now going limp, he heard a shuffling step from within the room.

Sam pulled away from the dead demon below him, gagging and coughing up tar and black smoke as he tried to stand and turn.

"Not possible," Lilith's voice came.

"Sam!" Gabriel was calling.

He scrambled to his feet, spinning in time to see Gabriel practically crab-walking back toward the wall, Azazel advancing on him with rigid lines to his posture.

He shot forward past the stunned blonde demon, grabbing Azazel by the back of his neck and turning, flinging him into the unmoving acolyte of hell. They crashed into the door frame and through it, crumpling into a heap in the hall before they started trying to scramble apart and up.

"He's gonna run," Gabriel spoke quietly from behind Sam. "They both are," he added.

Sam had to make a choice. He wouldn't be able to kill them both.

Emotion said to kill Azazel.

Instinct told him that Lilith was the bigger threat.

He grunted at himself. Ever with the logical card. After all, it was exceedingly rare that his instincts failed him, but he had been misguided by his emotions once or twice.

So, gaze set on his new target, he started forward.

The demoness' eyes widened at that. At her side, Azazel took off down the hall, but she didn't bother casting him a parting scowl. She kept that on Sam as she raised her hand.

Sam flew back into the wall across the room. Gabriel had managed to get out of the way and was scrambling to the side.

The wall had cracked and bowed beneath him, but he fought against it, fought to get to her, fought to kill the threat to the man he loved, fought to keep her attention so that she wouldn't turn on Gabriel.

It was almost a minute of straining against the invisible bonds crushing him to the cement and plaster beneath him, when Gabriel spoke up. "She's cracking, Sam, she can't hold you!" he called out.

Lilith turned her gaze on Gabriel then, her determined fear replaced with absolute rage.

"Well, screw the plan," she said, raising a hand toward him.

Sam pushed with everything he had, and the hold on him shattered. Whatever she was trying to do to Gabriel, her startled fear stopped it. Her heartbeat might as well have matched a humming bird's, in the bare second it took for the vampire to reach her.

She fought hard, harder than Abbadon had, but he drained her, too.

She lay dead on the floor, and Sam was on all fours beside her, full-on vomiting black tar, heavy puffs of smoke leaving him as he did.

His insides felt on fire. It was agony.

...But Gabriel was alive. He was safe. He would live.

Sam wasn't so sure for himself right that second, with the burning in his stomach and chest, but Gabriel would make it.

A hand met the skin of his back, slipping under his long-filthy shirts. The touch was so damned soothing, despite the retching that was pulling at every damned muscle he had. Why hadn't it been this bad with Abbadon?

"Crowley said that Azazel was working with the First, with Lilith, the first demon. ...I'm guessing that's why it's hurting so bad, Sammich," Gabriel's voice spoke softly near his ear.

' _We're alive. ...We're alive. Gabriel...oh, thank the gods, we're alive_.'

"Mmm, I think that's relative, Sampire. You're kinda...not really alive, ya know?"

' _You know what I mean, you little dick_.'

"Hey! My dick is above proportion, I'll have you know!" Gabriel spoke. Sam wasn't sure if that tone was actual offense, or only mocking.

Sam's mouth twitched in a near smile through the next wave of retching.

' _That is good to know. ...'Cause, uh...I'm a switch_.'

There was a faint choking noise from his side, and a heart beat stuttering and speeding up.

"Mm, same," Gabriel spoke in a slightly elevated pitch. His hand hadn't paused in rubbing over his now-aching muscles.

'... _You...you meant it?_ '

"I did," Gabriel confirmed, voice lowering a bit. "I lo--"

' _Gabe...I hear people_ ,' Sam cut in.

Gabriel froze.

Sam tried to control the retching and vomiting, but it had yet to stop. It was just tar now, though...the smoke wisps were long gone. But he couldn't smell a damn thing around the dead bodies and tar coming out of him.

After a few seconds, Gabriel's hand started moving again. "Crowley and some of his goons. I'm putting my filters back down now," he murmured, kissing the side of Sam's head.

Sam just gave a short nod, panting a bit as he was finally given a short reprieve from the nonstop bodily rejection of demon essence.

They were going to be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooooo...there's gonna be at least one more chappie for this? I'm not sure if that'll wrap it up or not. But there's obviously some things that will need explaining.
> 
> *pokes the muse* And this one isn't telling me if I should expect more beyond that or not.  
> *gives the muse a flat stare* ...Uhg.
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed so far, and will continue to do so, however much longer this story goes!


	12. Chapter 12

Hearing and feeling Azazel's thoughts had been...off-putting.

Off-putting in the same way that staring at roadkill was.

He wondered why he never felt like that with Sam, if that's how a vampire's thoughts felt. ...But with Sam, it was just...muted.

Even more so when he'd first dropped his filters upon waking in this...dungeon or whatever. They'd been so quiet that Gabriel wondered if it meant he was edging close to death...or what counted as death for him, anyway. ...But there wasn't anyone he could ask that would really know.

Besides...the mutedness of Sam's thoughts was a comfort. Strange though that was, it made the words and emotions attached to them soft against his mind.

He'd needed that, when he felt the thoughts of two demons twist through his head and into his spine. Standing under that onslaught had been awful.

But feeling them weaken, feeling them die? It was like a glass of ice water during the hottest day of summer. Soothing, refreshing.

Sam's thoughts were back to the normal volume after he'd fed from Gabriel, after whatever weird life energy had suddenly surged through to the vampire. Somehow, his body had recovered from that influx of sustenance, too; when Sam had pulled back from his neck, he'd no longer been emaciated, but whole and healed, and as buff as ever.

Gabriel was not going to pretend to know how that worked, exactly.

And yes, Azazel had gotten away. And Sam was vomiting...goo, black goo. But Crowley and his men were approaching. And ultimately, they were safe. They'd both lived.

Gabriel really had thought he was going to die here, that he was going to have to trade his life so Sam could keep going, and hopefully wind up winning against whatever machinations the vampire and the demons had had.

He kept rubbing Sam's back, looking up as he heard footsteps entering the room.

Crowley was staring at Sam, eyeing him closely. "Color me impressed, Moose. I didn't know this sort of thing was possible," he spoke evenly. He then barked a laugh when Sam shifted enough to bring up one hand and flip the crime lord off. Gabriel snickered along, leaning into Sam's side. "...How much longer do you think you'll be yakking up demon?" the human asked after a moment.

"It's slowing down," Gabriel provided, glancing over at Sam, then up at Crowley. "...I was at home, Crowley. I don't know what happened. My brother--"

"The Squirrel and your precious baby brother are fine. They're actually the ones that called me. Apparently, you went to retire for the night, had managed to set your phone down before you were nabbed. Dean-dearest did a walk-through before retiring for the night, and when your light was on, bed empty, and window wide open, he managed to crack your phone's passcode and call me," he supplied. His goons had filtered into the room and were eyeing the various messes they would probably be cleaning up. Two of them kept eyes on Sam and the ever-growing puddle of goo beneath him. One looked curious, the other disgusted.

Sam retched again, then pushed back onto his knees with a wheezed cough, swiping quickly at his chin and getting rid of some goo that had landed there. "...Think I'm in your debt now," he spoke, voice as bad as it had been months ago after his first encounter with Abbadon.

"Mm...hold that thought, Sam. You may decide differently. If you're quite ready, I think it best to leave this place now," he ventured.

Sam's eyes narrowed at Crowley in suspicion, but he nodded and started to push himself up. Gabriel quickly scrabbled to his feet and moved, offering Sam a support as he worked his way to a full vertical position. His efforts earned him a happy, warm, dimpled smile from the vampire, that was quickly followed by a bit of heat in his gaze when Gabriel's heart stuttered from that expression. That only made the mind-reading human more flustered, and he could feel his cheeks grow hot as his heart kicked into high gear.

Sam's eyes suddenly darted away, a brief flash of pain flickering over his face.

Well, shit. They were going to have to talk later, because even without his filters down, he had a feeling exactly what that was about.

Gabriel looked over to see Crowley watching them knowingly, with a large amount of amusement in his gaze. He glared at the other human, daring him to say something. The insufferable man simply raised an eyebrow at the challenge, gave a smug smile, and turned to head out. "And we're walking," he announced like some sort of tour guide.

They had to stop three times on the way out for Sam to eject more of the goo. They reached a limousine outside what was very obviously some sort of long-abandoned-warehouse, surrounded by like long-abandoned-warehouses (and they all looked so alike, they almost appeared to be the same). There, Crowley halted, turning a dubious look on Sam. After a moment, he huffed. "Do try to not vomit within the vehicle. Just because I can afford to have it cleaned, doesn't mean I wish to," he spoke airily, climbing into the wide back seat and taking the front bench that faced backward.

Sam said nothing, but motioned for Gabriel to climb in first, then followed him in shortly. He sat close, thigh pressed to thigh, arm pressed to shoulder. Gabriel tried not to smile about it too much, and more importantly, tried not to lean into him. There was a time for cuddles and snuggles; sitting in a limo after nearly dying and being rescued by a somewhat-asshat-of-a-crime-lord was not it.

Crowley knocked twice on the tinted window partition behind him, leading to the front of the car, and within seconds, the vehicle was moving.

"So, I imagine you'd like to know just what happened back there...or at least, the part I had in it all?" Crowley ventured.

"You'd be right. ...The energy that I got out of Gabriel came out of nowhere, Crowley, and it didn't feel at all like the Mitriptius spell. I won't ask what you know, but rather, what you're willing to tell me," Sam spoke, voice still a good bit hoarse after all his vomiting.

"It's not the Mitriptius spell. This one, if it worked as I suspected it would, would give you a near-overwhelming dose of energy."

Sam was silent, staring at Crowley, waiting for more.

It took over five minutes for the human to break under the vampire's glare. "You're no fun at all after three months of torture, are you? Alright, alright...well, to begin with, I suppose I should say that, once you threw in your lot with your brother and the Shurley family, I started watching. All of you. Very closely," the man said with a smug grin.

"Well, that's not creepy at all," Gabriel muttered.

Crowley was still watching Sam, but his growing grin showed he'd heard the shorter human.

"The spell was rather elaborate, but able to be condensed into a teeny-tiny charm. Your boy swallowed it with very little hesitation. Dangerous, that," he said.

Sam startled and turned wide eyes on to Gabriel.

Gabriel blinked up at him, recalling the small piece of metal from roughly two months prior. "Wait," he said, looking back at Crowley. "That was a spell? I thought it was some kinda weird looking geo-tracker!"

Crowley chuckled and shook his head. "Were it a piece of GPS technology, that'd be better hidden under the skin somewhere...where it wouldn't be likely to pass from your body?" he spoke, as though Gabriel were particularly dense. And yeah, maybe he was, because he hadn't considered that. "But, one of the effects of this spell is to bind that metal to your insides, to keep it tucked up until it's needed," he continued.

"What are the conditions of activation?" Sam spoke, looking back at Crowley.

"Mm, this spell carries three triggers. First, the ebb and flow of life from the base source to the secondary source. Second, the sources of the activation; namely, you and the shortstack. And third, your emotions in regards to one another."

Sam stared again.

Gabriel tired of it three minutes later, caving to the crime lord and huffing out, "Emotions?"

Sam gave a disgruntled huff when Crowley grinned smugly. "Why, yes," he began, looking at Gabriel as he gave the answer. "The most complicated and pure feeling in the human lexicon of emotions. The stipulations for it in this spell are vague enough to be terrifying, but a simple passing love just won't do for it. There has to be not only a deep attachment, but a complete trust, and the potential for growth, too."

Gabriel stared. ...This dick knew they loved one another before they'd even given each other so much as a clue. ...Not that they'd had time to, he supposed. Still, it was more than a little infuriating.

Sam was rigid at his side, but took in a slow, measured breath. "Crowley..." he began, tone cold for a moment. The human opposite them actually tensed quite a bit.

But then Sam turned and Gabriel looked up to see Sam watching him. "...What ya thinkin' there, Sampire?" Gabriel spoke quietly.

Sam's lips twitched a bit. "I'm thinking...I'm thinking that spell probably would've ripped us both apart, if Crowley had been wrong," he confessed quietly. "I'm thinking that I want to be angry, for that reason. ...I'm thinking that it doesn't matter, because it did work, and even if it hadn't, we wouldn't be around to care. So..." he said, looking back over at Crowley. "...Thank you," he concluded.

Crowley stared, almost seeming to not comprehend, but after a few seconds, reached for a bottle of scotch and a glass tucked into the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's short...1600 words. ...I'm sorry u.u
> 
> I got handed reports I need to plug in before I leave and I need to work on those.
> 
> I'm sorry.
> 
> Also, this is not the last chapter. My muse has something else she wants to do that she's not fully divulging for me.
> 
> So...more next week! Have a good weekend, y'all!


	13. Chapter 13

Where Sam had forgiven the potential hazards and repercussions of the spell, Castiel did not.

Sam, Gabriel, and Crowley had exited the limo once it stopped in front of Gabriel's home. No sooner had they closed one of the car doors than the front door was flying open. Cas was the first one through it, and moved almost as fast as Sam himself could, drawing Gabriel into a hug so tight, Sam was pretty sure he heard some bones creaking from under the smaller man's skin.

Dean was out next, and Sam fared no better under his brother's hold.

"Fuck, Sammy," his brother grunted against him.

Sam let out a soft chuckle, hugging his brother back tightly, but being careful to keep it to a human level of strength. "Didn't miss me, didja Jerk?" he teased.

"I oughta punch you for that comment," Dean griped, finally releasing the hug, but hands lingering on Sam's shoulders as he took to looking him over. That he didn't return their usual teasing spoke volumes for the depth of his concern. Dean frowned at Sam's state of dress and started pushing at the scraps of bloodied fabric claiming to be a shirt, trying to find wounds. He frowned in confusion at not finding any.

"There's a lot to go over," Sam spoke, glancing over where Cas was finally starting to relent on his hold on Gabe.

"A few things, that's for certain," Crowley chimed in, striding past them all with an air of superiority and walking right on in to Gabriel's home without invitation. "Squirrel, a scotch if you would?" he called out over his shoulder.

"That damned pompous, arrog--"

"Relax, Dean. I'll get it. Go settle," Sam prompted.

"Actually, Sampire," Gabriel chimed in. "I'll get it. You go shower and change...we'll wait for storytime till then," he said with a tight smile.

Sam opened his mouth, but quickly shut it and gave a nod, heading on in. ...He really wanted to invite Gabriel to join him in the shower.

But honestly?

He was kinda afraid to touch him.

...He'd been about to kill him, in that gods-forsaken building. He hadn't been able to help it, had been near to mad with hunger, and he would've....

He tried not to think on it, as he reached his given room and gathered clothes up to put on after the shower.

Oh dear gods....

Stepping under the near-scorching spray of hot water, he couldn't help the deep, soft moan that left him. Three months, give or take...three months without a shower, and he had genuinely forgotten how _very good_ it could feel. He had to have spent ten minutes just standing there, absorbing the heat and warmth of the water cascading over him.

He spent another thirty scrubbing, rinsing, scrubbing, rinsing, and scrubbing and rinsing again, before he finally felt like he might be clean.

Stepping out of the shower, the bathroom was so full of steam that it was still warm, and Sam dried off slowly, smiling faintly to himself as he wicked the water away with the aide of one of Gabriel's plush towels.

He would never skip a shower again, so long as he lived. There had been a few times he had, but never would he go a day without showering at least once again. Not if he could help it.

He was glad for the clothes he'd grabbed from his room, too, as he dressed. His typical boxer-briefs, a soft pair of flannel pajama bottoms, and an equally soft, long-worn muscle tee that fit him a bit on the loose side of things.

He took the time to dig out nail clippers and scowled at how unkempt he was before setting to grooming himself a bit more. He finished with a shave, rinsing and drying his face and neck off, then finally tossed his three-month-old clothes into the trash and left the bathroom.

"About time, man! It's been an...whoa," Dean's voice came as Sam walked into the living room.

Sam smirked and chuckled. "Yeah, about an hour, sorry...I really needed to get clean. I'm just glad I didn't have lice or some shit. That woulda been hell," he said with a shrug.

Dean was standing at the edge of the living room, arms crossed loosely, staring at Sam and slowly losing a line of tension in his shoulders.

Crowley was in the sofa chair against the far wall, sipping on some scotch with a decanter sitting next to him on the end table to his right.

Gabriel sat in the middle of the sofa perpendicular to the chair, with Cas sitting to his left, between him and Crowley.

Sam seriously considered sitting to Gabriel's right on the sofa. ...They were apparently madly in love with one another, after all. And then there was that whole 'complete trust' thing that Crowley had touched on.

And Sam did trust Gabriel.

But after what'd happened, after having tasted Gabriel...he didn't trust himself.

So he shifted back and into a position beside his older brother, shoving his hands into his pockets with a sigh.

"So...the end result of things is that Azazel's still somewhere out there, but Lilith and Abbadon are dead," Sam introduced the beginnings of the conversation.

Dean let out a low curse, then paused. "...And Dad?"

Sam winced and grit his teeth, pressing his lips into a flat line as he stared down at the floor before him. "...I couldn't do anything for 'im, Dean. I'm sorry, there wasn't anything I could do. He was as good as dead the second he agreed to anything with them," he spoke quietly.

There was quiet for a good few seconds before Dean spoke a quiet, tense, "How?"

"Azazel...flaunted him, for lack of a better expression. Gave him the illusion that he had a hand in anything, allowed him to express his opinions on things. And when Dad realized the situation he was actually in, Azazel offered for me to feed from him. I hadn't eaten at that point, had been attacked before I could find a meal. ...Dad thought I would. When he realized I wouldn't...when Azazel realized I wouldn't, he killed him," Sam spoke quietly.

Dean let out a shuddering breath, but said nothing.

"...Azazel then starved me, didn't offer me a damned thing...until today. I was seriously nearing insanity...and he and the demons dropped Gabe into my...cell or whatever," he broached.

Cas went tense, heartbeat speeding up as he started looking Gabriel over for wounds.

"I'm alright, Cassie," Gabriel spoke, catching on to his brother's worry.

"And let's not forget who's to thank for that," Crowley spoke with a slight raise of his glass before he took another sip.

Dean and Castiel's gazes both zeroed in on Crowley in that instant.

"Dude...you may have just dug your own grave. I don't think they're going to be as forgiving as we were," Sam piped up.

Dean went rigid. Castiel hissed out a soft, "Crowley." And when Crowley looked at Cas, his eyes lost their typical shine. He looked flat, blank. "Tell us what you did," he snapped out quietly.

"Cassie--" Gabriel began in a startled tone, eyes darting between them. Sam frowned in confusion. Especially when Crowley followed the command.

"I magicked a piece of metal and had Gabriel swallow it. I suspected Azazel's intentions and machinations involving Sam, and believed that he would take Gabriel at some point to force Sam into feeding from him. The spell was one that would convert emotional power into life energy. It was a one-and-done spell, but it was all that would be needed."

"Explain," Cas growled out.

Whatever specifically Castiel wanted explained, Crowley apparently understood on some level, because he pressed forward. Gabriel's heart was pounding, and he was clearly distressed, but Sam wasn't sure why. Nor was he sure why Crowley was listening to Castiel. He shared a look with Dean, who merely shrugged in response, but listened on anyway.

"To put it in the simplest terms, the spell converted a combination of love and trust into life energy, in such an amount that it would thoroughly rejuvenate Sam and allow him to not only defend them both, but make an escape."

"And if they hadn't had the love and trust needed to make it work?"

"Sam would've become a husk, a dead thing that would eat and eat and never feel anything other than hunger, for the rest of eternity, or until beheaded. That is, of course, if he survived Gabriel's soul exploding and wiping out everything within a five hundred mile radius."

There was a solid tension building following that. Sam was horrified to know what could've happened, had he and Gabriel not felt what they did for one another...but it didn't distract him from whatever the hell was about to happen. Something bad, he was sure.

It was only Gabriel's soft, "Cassie...Cassie, don't," that ended it all.

Castiel's gaze ripped away from Crowley's.

Crowley immediately surged to his feet, stumbling and looking murderous. "You little--! No wonder the demons are after you two!" he snapped out, before his gaze landed on Gabriel. "Is that your little trick, too? Mind control?!" he bellowed.

Dean went perfectly still beside him, save for his breathing, which became shallow. His heart wasn't beating fast, but it almost seemed like his heart beats were heavier somehow.

"It's not," Sam interfered, stepping forward. "Gabriel has his own cross to bear, yes, but it's not any of your business what it is. And Crowley, I may be grateful to you, but make no mistake," Sam spoke, narrowing his eyes as the crime lord looked at him in bewilderment. "If you dare try to use or expose what Castiel just revealed, I will _end_ you."

Cas blinked, staring up at Sam with a stunned expression. Gabriel was looking at him in awe. Dean was still behind him, as though drawing attention would bring the very wrath of the gods down on them all.

Crowley looked betrayed.

"He just fucking--"

"I can see what he did, Crowley. I can also see that he almost did something far worse than get a little information out of you concerning what could have happened to his brother, to the family he's closest to. But he stepped back from that ledge, and I'm pretty sure that's the only reason you're alive. ...Make no mistake, though, MacLeod. This is my family. Threaten them, touch them, harm them in any way? I will make the world fall apart around you, and then I will kill you. Are we clear?"

Crowley's jaw ticked. His heart pounded, his blood surged. He was pissed. And it honestly upset Sam, because he was sure that whatever tentative friendship he had in the man was about to end. But he wasn't lying, this was family, and he wouldn't allow harm to come to them, not while he could help it.

Crowley took in a deep breath, and when he breathed out, he spoke a grumbly, "Fine!" with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1800 words...not where I wanted to end it, but it's time to leave work, soooo....
> 
> Hopefully more tomorrow....
> 
> Ta!


End file.
